“Survivor.”

(Pare’s Tale)

– A “Chaotic Future” Side Story –

EPILOGUE:

A PRICE TO BE PAID

They had come in the night.

Armed men, sent by Gilliam to escort Ellia to the palace, in order to question her about what she may or may not have seen on the day that Pare’s space craft had fallen from the sky. Duke Lestan led them and, operating under jealous suspicions of his own, the Galdrian nobleman had simply barged into the country home owned by Ellia, rather than announcing himself and awaiting her permission to enter.

What they found proved his suspicions correct.

Pare had tried to fight them off when they burst into the bedchamber, and even Ellia had taken part in the short but heated struggle. They were outnumbered, though, and Pare had yet to recover fully from his injuries. He was subdued, as was Ellia, and both lovers were separated and taken by force to the imperial palace in Valdis.

Now, days after having been taken prisoner, Pare sat alone in the darkness of the palace dungeon, his head hung low in shame, his arms shackled at the wrists to the cold stone wall. He shifted slightly, gasping in pain due to the numerous wounds that had been inflicted upon him during his capture. He clenched his fists, cursing himself for his inability to stop those who had taken him prisoner, at his inability to protect the one he loved.

He knew, with dark certainty, that he would never see Ellia again. Pare growled in helpless rage as he shut his eyes, her cries still ringing within his mind:

“No, no! Please, I’m begging you Lestan, don’t do this! Just leave us alone, please! Pare! No, Pare!”

Suddenly the Saiyan’s eyes snapped open as he felt a sensation on his cheeks that was entirely alien to him. The taste of salt on his lips told Pare what was happening, though he could scarcely believe it: tears ran down his face for only the second time in his life. A bitter smile crept across his bruised face, the tears stinging him as they ran over the open wounds that had been inflicted upon him by those Galdrians who had amused themselves by beating on a helpless Saiyan.

It’s over, he thought darkly, shaking his head. It’s all over. Forgive me, Kakarot; it looks like I’ve failed you. Forgive me… The tears began to flow in earnest now as he thought about all that he had forsaken in his vain attempt to reach Earth, though one above all else hit him like a blade through the heart:

Hanzo…

His son, his only son, would never know his father’s fate. Hanzo would never understand Pare’s reason for leaving him behind, or all that he’d been through since leaving Iquela; Hanzo would never know about Ellia, or the fact that Pare had been unable to reach Earth. In fact, Pare realized as his stomach twisted, Hanzo would in all likelihood never leave Iquela, for the pod that the former royal adviser had taken on this journey was the only way on or off the distant, backwater planet.

My son, please… Please forgive me, he pleaded silently, willing his thoughts across the vastness of the universe toward his child, though he knew it was a vain effort. I should never have left you alone, Hanzo. I should never have left at all…

--

Light flooded the cell.

Pare looked up, an icy glare flashing from his dark eyes as he locked gazes with the man who had entered. He recognized him instantly, though nearly blinded by the light from without: tall, with a slim yet powerful build, crimson haired and yellow-eyed, clad in the flowing robes that seemed to be common among Galdrian nobility; the very man who had led the soldiers against Pare and Ellia that night…

Lestan du Adean…

The Duke stepped forward and delivered a thunderous backhanded blow to Pare’s cheek, causing the Saiyan’s head to snap back as flashing lights filled his blurred vision. Du Adean smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as Pare hung limp, held up by only the shackles at his wrists. Lestan knelt before the captive, a sly grin upon his lips as he chuckled quietly to himself. Eventually he stood and began pacing back and forth across the small, dingy dungeon cell.

“I really should thank you, you know,” du Adean finally said, coming to a stop across from Pare, who looked up, his face a mask of barely controlled rage.

“Oh?” the Saiyan said, surprising Lestan with his ability to convey an incredible amount of hate, malice, and murderous fury in that one syllable.

“Yes, actually. You see, my stock with the Emperor had fallen considerably in the last several months; you’re timely arrival and arrest has once again put me in my Lord Gilliam’s good graces.” Lestan’s grin widened in response to the glare given him by Pare. “In fact, if Ellia’s life is spared after all of this madness, I may still ask for her hand.” Noting the furious expression on the Saiyan’s face, the nobleman continued. “And, with my new status as a national hero, I doubt that even Gilliam himself would raise an objection to our marriage.”

“And when is it that you plan on stabbing him in the back?” Pare asked, smiling himself this time as du Adean’s expression changed from one of devious confidence to undisguised shock. “Yes, that’s what I thought,” Pare went on. “I’m not quite so rustic and barbarous as you stuck up bastards might think; I once served our King, and I’ve seen your type before: a jealous, power-hungry minor noble who’s willing to do anything to have control.” Lestan took a step back, as if frightened by the fire that had seemed to well up in Pare’s eyes. “Anything, du Adean. Even commit treason,” he paused for dramatic effect, seeing that his words were having quite an impact on the Duke of Adean, “or regicide.”

Lestan smiled nervously. “Well, it seems luck is on my side, Saiyan. As it turns out, I will someday come to rule Galdria without the aid of treason or regicide; the Heir to the throne, Gilliam and Pheris’ son Dorian, has vanished it seems, leaving the line of succession unclear.” The tension faded from the Duke’s expression as he went on, sweeping a gloved hand through his long, crimson hair. “If Ellia is spared the death sentence for her part in this, I will have her as my bride—”

“And with her relation to the Emperor, you will be next in line to the throne, as the closest male kin, even if it is only by marriage,” Pare finished, realizing where Lestan’s plan was heading. “Tell me then: did you orchestrate Dorian’s disappearance, or was it truly just dumb luck?”

“Honestly, who can say?” Lestan replied, his smirk telling Pare all that he needed to know. “Space craft have so many little things that can go wrong, of course. A small malfunction, while the Prince was so far from home, could have very easily occurred… I guess we’ll never know.”

“I guess not.”

Du Adean turned his back to Pare as he made his way back to the cell’s exit, looking back over his shoulder to speak one last time before he left. “You should enjoy this last night, Saiyan. For tomorrow, you are to be executed.” Again that sly, blood-chilling smile crept across his features. “And Lord Gilliam has given me the honor of killing you. I shall enjoy it immensely.” Before Lestan exited, Pare called out to the Galdrian nobleman. The Duke looked back once more, narrowing his cold yellow eyes.

“And if Ellia is executed as well?” the Saiyan asked, his eyes locked unwaveringly upon Lestan’s own. “How will you take control if she’s put to death, and you’re unable to marry her?”

“Well,” du Adean responded with a shrug, “there’s always regicide.” With that he left Pare alone in the darkness, the faint echo of his laughter the only sign that the nobleman had been there at all.

--

The sun burned through the early morning mist.

Atop the highest hill just outside Valdis, a ring of Galdrian nobles stood around a kneeling form, held in place by two members of the Royal Household Guard. A cool breeze stirred the assembled Galdrians’ nearly uniform long hair, strong enough even to tousle the stiff, short spikes of the Saiyan captive. A figure clad in flowing robes of black and red silk strode forward from his place in the circle to stand before Pare, who looked up defiantly into the face of his executioner.

Lestan smiled. “Saiyan, for your crimes against the royal family, and for the crimes committed on this world by your ancestors, you have been sentenced to death.” Reaching into his robes, du Adean pulled out a cylinder of stained redwood, about eight inches in length and carved with intricate symbols. With a flick of his wrist, a long, slightly curved blade of flaring red energy erupted from the end of the cylinder; Lestan shifted his stance, holding the energy saber readily above his head.

Pare seemed oblivious to Lestan, though, as he looked past the nobleman toward the knot of observers behind him. There, shackled and surrounded by Galdrian soldiers, stood Ellia, her face wet with tears as she looked on helplessly. The Saiyan stared deep into her shimmering pink eyes, which were red-rimmed and bloodshot. Slowly, so as not to alert the guards around her, Ellia moved her hands, resting them lightly upon her stomach, her eyes widening slightly as she awaited some reaction of understanding from her lover.

At first Pare was unsure of what she was trying to say, and then suddenly realization dawned on him. Unthinkingly, he attempted to stand to his feet, to run to her, to try and free her from her bonds so that they could escape this place, so they could run away together: Pare, Ellia, and the child growing within her womb. The guards reacted instantly, grabbing the Saiyan roughly by the shoulders and forcing him back to his knees, holding him in place. Pare growled as hot tears sprang from his eyes; tears of sorrow and of helplessness, tears of rage at his inability to act

He clenched his eyes shut, whispering to himself, “My god…”

The blade fell.

--

Well, there you have it! Thanks for reading “Survivor,” the second in a series of short, “Chaotic Future” side stories. I hope you enjoyed this story of Pare, Miura and Hanzo’s father, and please be on the lookout for the next installment in the Side Stories series: “Corruption (Hanzo’s Tale),” which tells the sad story of Hanzo’s transformation from a lonely young boy to the vengeful Saiyan warrior of “Chaotic Future”!

Thanks again,

AMdG

Arius Miura de Galdri

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