There is a fine line between good and evil. A line that sometimes gets blurred and merges one with the other until the true meaning of either becomes so hard to distinguish. It is a line everything dares to walk down. The whole of humanity balances on its narrowness, and occasionally, even the best of the good ones slip. Trunks knew evil from good. Good was pure. Good was Goku, and Gohan. Evil was tainted. Evil was Cell and Frieza. A nice line between good and evil. An evident line. Trunks believed that. They all did, he thought. Every last one of them. He looked at Pan and at Gohan and nodded. Yeah, they all believed that. He snapped from his thoughts and noticed suddenly that the daylight was fading.
Pan and Gohan headed for home at his prompting, and Trunks sat by the edge of the forest to contemplate life as he knew it. Something was stirring his mind, and something deep within him was awakening. A sort of awareness was coming about. The kind that men sometimes wait their whole lives to discover. The awareness of the truth behind the illusion. Trunks listened to the crickets and the canidids, and watched the fireflies play. He was stepping into the circle of life. He knew as much. There was a sudden reality in everything for him now. Even the faintest of things had took on a sharper, more impacting look. He felt more alive since his bout with Frieza than he ever had in his whole time of existing. Trunks took in a deep breath and coaxed his fully relaxed body to move. He stood and walked away from the edge of the forest slowly, his hands in his pockets, his mind everywhere but on where he was walking to.
The flash of blue lit through the night with a crash of what sounded like thunder. It brought Trunks to a dead stop, and his eyes traveled around the field with narrowed intent. He could feel no energy, which was odd. Even lightning put off ki. Didn't everything, though? He eased his sword from its sheath as two loud, annoyed voices erupted from the silence. The language they spoke was unknown to him. Some strange and exotic language, no doubt. Taking careful, quiet steps, the Sayajin made his way over to the origin of the bickering and stopped. He could sense a small amount of energy from the two men, but he couldn't tell if they were suppressing their true power or not. And as he watched, the two robed men, from God knew where, broke into a fist fight.
Trunks cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me?" He said, taking another careful step forward. Both men turned to look at him.
"I'm not sure what is going on, or where you two came from for that matter, but is the shouting really necessary?"
One of them, the younger of the two with eyes so green they nearly glowed in the moonlight, stabbed the bottom of his staff into the ground and regarded him with cool disdain. The other, older and resembling the younger one almost completely save for the age difference, folded his arms over his chest and tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe. Trunks watched them for a moment, then sheathed his sword.
"Are you lost?" He asked more to break the uncomfortable silence than anything.
"Lost? Yes, we are. My bumbling nephew and his ignorant teleports is why." The old man snarled and smacked the younger one in the back of the head.
"Damn you, Canthor! Stop beating on me, you dithering old dust bag!" The young man shouted. Trunks raised a brow and watched on with sudden curiosity.
"I am Caleb, we hail from Magus Pointe." The young one bowed slightly and offered up a dry smile. "Uncle was teaching me the finer points of teleportation, when something went awry. And here we are." He added, his green eyes shifting from Trunks to the surrounding area.
"Might we inquire as to where "here" is?" Canthor pitched in impatiently.
Trunks debated a moment, then answered. "Earth."
Both men stared at him blankly. If the name meant anything at all to them, they didn't act like it. The old man snapped something in his strange language, and fists flew again.
"Hey now! Come on you two. That's not called for." Trunks said, taking another step forward. He was caught square in the chest by a blinding flash of white-blue light, and it knocked him on his ass. Foreigners, he thought as he picked himself off the ground. The young man brought his staff up in time to deflect another streak of the light, and it struck the ground beside Trunks with a heart-stopping boom. That's not Ki they are hurling, he thought as he turned his eyes back to the two battling men. Not even close.
"Home with you!" The old man shouted, then dropped his voice in a wheezing chant. He spread his arms; the long sleeves of his black robe billowed in the breeze kicked up by their magic. Caleb swung his staff like a baseball bat and clipped the resulting flash of light from the air. It veered hard to the right and smacked into Trunks before he even thought of moving. Every nerve in his body went to ice, then blazed into scorching pain. He felt the energy encircle him, and it made him feel light and queasy.
"Uh oh." The young man said, turning to look at Trunks with slightly wide eyes. His uncle snorted loudly.
"Now look what you did!" Canthor shouted, and magic flew again.
Trunks watched everything fade to nothing but blue light as the energy tightened around him. Yeah, uh oh, he thought grimly. He then felt as though he was hurled forward at breakneck speed. He came to a sudden stop, and then he was falling. Trunks hit a cobbled road like a misused piece of luggage, and lay there until his insides caught up with him. It took him a moment to realize that he had landed in a puddle, and he jumped to his feet with a growl.
"Hell!" He scowled, making some small attempt to brush the water off of his pants and jacket.
"Close. This is Morquean." A soft female voice said from behind him.
Her name, he would soon discover, was Hycilanthi. She was Morquean's High Priestess, and Trunks wasn't ashamed to admit to himself that the small woman gave him the creeps. In fact, he thought as he brought the mug of some strange brew she had called Dragon's Breath to his lips, this whole town gave him the willies. She sat across the small round table and watched him with glittering eyes of sapphire blue. She had explained to him that he was now in a land primarily controlled by evil, and that the town he was in was controlled by the most evil thing that ever walked on booted feet. She then led him to where he sat now. In an inn named RedWing. She had laid her staff across the table, and Trunks stared at the twin snake heads that adorned the top of it. Their small blue-gem eyes twinkled in the light of the candles and the torches that lit the inn's common room, and their tongues were intertwined in some hellish and eternal kiss. Trunks sipped the brew cautiously, then turned his head, and spit the stuff right back out.
"Damn! Tastes like it could strip the rust off my sword." He wiped his lips with a face of extreme disgust and pushed the mug away. "Can a man get a glass of orange juice here? Or some good old fashioned water?"
Hycilanthi laughed at this and shook her head. "You are a strange one indeed. Equipped and built for battle, but oddly… soft."
"Soft." Trunks repeated. "I'll have to mark this down on the calendar. A Sayajin called soft."
The High Priestess sipped at her own strange concoction and smiled at him. He could see a touch of bitterness and sarcasm touch her wonderfully cold features. The hate that lurks within, he thought. Seemed everyone he saw in this place had the same smile.
"Has anyone ever told you that you have purple hair?" She asked with an almost friendly grin.
Trunks ran his fingers through his now only slightly damp hair and shook his head. "Nope, never heard that before." He grinned back at her, and she looked as though she might have been on the verge of an honest to god blush.
"Oh my GAWDS!" Someone called out in the crowd. "Hyci, that you hiding in the shadows?"
Trunks turned in his chair and watched a dust-covered man with a crest on his black tunic cross the wooden-planked floor and drop into the last free chair at their table. The High Priestess scowled at the man, and scooted her chair as far away from him as she could.
"Do they not make their Calvary bathe?" She asked bringing two slender fingers up to pinch her nose. The man scoffed at her actions and promptly stole away her drink.
"Twice a week, as a matter of fact. Which is one time too many, by any man's standards. Who's this?" The deep green eyes turned on him, and Trunks held out a polite hand and introduced himself.
"Trunks? You be named after an article of furniture then? Doesn't matter, my name is Shockwave. Calvary Elite Command. You gonna drink that?"
He ignored Trunks outstretched hand and helped himself to the bitter drink that he had pushed aside.
"Our purple-haired friend here was caught up in a scuffle between two of Magus Pointe's resident crazies." Hyci said, snatching her empty mug from the man. "He was hit with a teleport spell, and dropped in the street near the square."
Shockwave slapped Trunks on the shoulder. "Welcome to Morquean!"
Trunks murmured a thank-you and dusted off his dirty jacket. Dried mud rained onto the table and he quickly swept it off with a look of embarrassment.
"He's from another world." Hyci added, and watched Shockwave's expression change from a smile to a look of extreme pity.
"My condolences, Trunks." he whispered, and both of them stared at him as though he were a dead man walking. Trunks suddenly wished he were home.
"Who are these MORONS!?" Vegeta's harsh voice broke through the dawn silence like a gunshot.
"Morons?" Caleb breathed in near shock. "Did you hear that, Uncle?"
Canthor snorted and folded his arms over his chest. "I heard him call you a moron, yes." The old man said haughtily.
Vegeta gawked at the men and clenched his fists. "Argh! I said you are both morons!" He snarled.
Both magi flinched away and huddled close to each other. "He's rabid, I think. Or was that just spittle?" Caleb whispered to his uncle. Goku clapped a hand on Vegeta's shoulder and moved him aside.
"Take it easy, Vegeta. There's no need to insult the guys." He said in his typically cheerful tone.
Vegeta snarled again and folded his arms over his chest. Turning his nose up, he put his back to the men who had awoken half the town before dawn with their stupid battle. What kind of warrior runs around in a bathrobe, anyway? He thought.
Canthor nodded his agreement. Caleb murmured aloud, "Indeed. You might try breathing exercises to relax you some. A temper like that puts a man in an early grave."
"Though, with hair like that, I can understand the violent tendencies. I know an excellent barber. He gives the best haircuts. If you'd like-
"MORONS!" Vegeta bellowed and stormed off.
Goku waited for Bulma to set the tray of lemonade on the table and leave before dropping into a chair. He looked the robed men over once, and took a deep breath.
"Alright, let's try this without fighting. Who did you send where, and how?"
Both men began at once, and the story came out in a mix of shouting and punches. Goku dropped his forehead on the table with a moan. So much for that approach, he thought.
"Alright, pretty boy. Up and at 'em. This ain't no boarding house!"
Trunks leapt from the tiny bed he had slept on the night before and grabbed up his sword. He stared around the small room with a look of confusion and alarm. His head throbbed horribly from last night's drink, and it took him a moment to remember just where the hell he was. The banging on the door resumed, and the deep, thickly accented voice that shouted through it had taken on an annoyed tone.
"Don't make me come in there!" It threatened.
Trunks walked to the door and unlocked it, then opened it to reveal the barkeeper's angry gob. "Can I help you?" he asked.
The barkeeper looked at him a moment, almost shocked beyond words. "Aye, that ye can. Git yer ass outta my room. 'Tis noon, yer only paid for the night. Git a move on already."
Trunks shook his head, as if desperately trying to shake away the confusion, and walked back to grab his jacket off the small table. He edged past the barkeeper's wide girth and walked down the stairs. "Does anyone here not have an attitude?" He murmured aloud.
Hyci was seated at the same table they had occupied the night before, but Shockwave was no where to be seen. She looked up as the Sayajin hit the ground floor and smiled her tainted smile.
"Ah, there you are. I trust you slept well?" She asked, waving him into a chair.
Trunks dropped into it with a sigh and laid his head on the table. He felt as though his brain might spill out of his ear at any moment. Hyci watched him with a grin.
"Elrich, give me a fighter's favorite. My purple-haired friend here has a slight hangover." She patted Trunks on the back and took up her mug of mead. "Liege will be back in town today. We will go to the castle once we've tended your hangover, and he can help send you home."
The barkeeper, giving Trunks an amused look, set a mug of what smelled like tomato juice onto the table and dropped a stalk of celery into it, slopping the red liquid down the side of the mug. "Bottom's up, pretty boy." He guffawed and walked off.
Trunks growled softly and snatched the mug up. He downed the drink in one breath, and regretted it immediately. His eyes began to water and his mouth and throat burned like hell's fire. He sucked in a deep breath, and coughed. "What the-
Hyci clapped her hands like a delighted schoolgirl and laughed. "Red pepper. It'll burn off the excess drink and help clear your fuzzy mind. Eat the celery. It'll ease the burn some."
An hour and a platter of meat and cheese later found them both strolling up the crowded street towards Morquean's castle. Trunks felt an odd mix of curiosity and dread as they drew nearer their destination. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but something about it all made him very, very uneasy. He saw the castle, and knew instantly.
Morquean's castle stood 13 floors high. As Hyci pointed out, that's not counting the three levels of dungeon under ground level. It was a dark affair, being composed mostly of black rock and black marble. The windows above the first floor were all seemingly dirty, until you hit the 12th floor. Trunks stopped just inside the castle gates and gawked up at the sheer size of the place.
"Do they think they made it big enough?" He asked the Priestess.
"No, they ran out at the quarry before it could be finished." She joked, and walked up to the massive stairs that lead to the double entry doors.
Trunks planted a boot on the first step and froze up. A feeling much like drowning took him, and he fought to breathe. There was a cold here, and it seeped deep into the bones of him, and froze him from the inside. Fear, he could know it from his own home, true fear had taken hold of him in its icy fingers, and it refused to let him go. Hyci stopped and watched him calmly at the top of the stairs. Her eyes glittered in the harsh sunlight.
"Welcome to Morquean's castle." She smiled coldly.
"How do we know these idiots are telling the truth?" Vegeta grumbled over his shoulder to Goku.
Both Sayajins had decided to fly out to the field where the magi duo's first battle had erupted. Trunks had been caught in the crossfire, and they had sent him somewhere far beyond where either of the two could go. Vegeta landed first, Goku followed close behind.
"This is the place." Vegeta murmured, his eyes on the grass.
"How can you tell?" Goku said, looking around the expanse of field. "It could have been anywhere around here."
Vegeta swept the grass with the bottom of his boot and looked at Goku with a smug grin. "Where else would you find frost burned grass in the middle of the summer?"
There was a gust of frosted wind and a flash of blue. Caleb and Canthor shoved their way over to the two Sayajins . The young magi held his hand over the dead grass.
"Yes, this is where the teleport opened. The energy is still active. If you'd like, I could open another one to track it, and you could go find this missing Cayenne"
"Sayajin" Canthor corrected his nephew with a smirk. "We've heard it all morning, you feeble minded twit, how could you not know it by now?"
Vegeta grabbed the old man by his robe and easily lifted him above the ground. "I'll have no more of your senseless bickering. Just get me to wherever it is you sent him!" He let the man drop.
Canthor straightened his robe with a huff. But before he could open his mouth to retort, Caleb had shoved him aside, and stared down at the ornery Sayajin, all the mirth and uncertainty faded from his young face, and a look of deadly intent had replaced it. His green eyes burned brightly in the light of the sun.
"Let's you and I come to an understanding, er, Vegeta was it? You may be the most powerful thing in this world, but you would do well to remember that there are a million worlds out there, and each one boasts its own powerful beings. No matter how powerful you become, there is always someone out there that can WHIP YOUR ASS! So, "Caleb dropped his voice again, and dusted the front of Vegeta's shirt absently while he spoke, "a little humility, if you would? And a touch of respect will go a long way."
Goku felt an over-whelming urge to applaud the lecture, and the balls it took a man to say as much to Vegeta's face. Vegeta, on the other hand, only grew more annoyed. He did manage to stop his shouting, and when he spoke again, his voice was tense but quiet.
"Open your teleport and send us to where we need to go."
Canthor stepped up to the patch of frost-burned grass and began a raspy chant. Caleb took his place beside his uncle and fell into harmony with him. Goku stared around as the daylight itself seemed to dim, and a bright slash of blue light split the air itself. It grew until there was a gaping hole, spilling cold and blinding light. The two robed men stepped back and Caleb bowed a bit. "Your teleport, good sirs." He almost chirped.
Vegeta and Goku exchanged uneasy glances. The dead grass was fresh in both men's minds, and each one wondered if they might be frozen just like it had been. Finally, Goku shouted incoherently and jumped into the pool of light. Vegeta offered Caleb and Canthor one last annoyed glance, then he too walked into the light.
Liege Montgomery took Trunks completely by surprise. He had somehow expected an older man, perhaps with cloven hooves and horns. The most evil thing to walk on booted feet turned out to be a man not much older than himself. He was far from unimpressive in his stature. Light eyes that were nothing more than pools of white-blue contrasted with the mane of black hair that framed his face. His features were finely chiseled, and proud by any standards. He stood well over 6'5", Trunks estimated, and his build was definitely that of a warrior. He hadn't been dressed in robes, or bright gaudy clothing as Trunks had originally imagined he would. Instead he was in a loose black shirt, tight black trousers, and boots that came to his knees. His forehead was adorned with a band of thick metal, and a crest in gems decorated the center of it. Trunks had been ushered up the steps by two men in uniform, Elite Royal Guards, he was told, and led into the dining hall then shoved into a chair. Montgomery sat at the head of the outrageously long table, and regarded Trunks with his odd eyes. There is power here, Trunks thought as he looked back at the ruler. There is definitely power here.
"I am Liege Montgomery." The man said in a soft, deep and somewhat comforting voice. "But, you can call me Darkness."
"Get off of me, woman!" Vegeta shouted through clenched teeth and pried the Priestess' arms from around him. "Kakkarot! We are going now!"
Goku looked up from the delectable sweets laid out on the table of one of the stalls in Morquean's vast marketplace, and sighed. How he wished he had brought along some money. The pastries had set his mouth to watering, and he realized just now that Vegeta had dragged him off without breakfast. He watched Vegeta fight to free himself from the grasp of a woman in black robes, and sighed again. His stomach grumbled with sudden hunger.
Unlike when Trunks had landed, the square was a bristling hub of activity by day. Vegeta and Goku touched down near a huge and gothic looking church, just on the edge of the churchyard. Vegeta had spilled over a tombstone, and the sisters of the order had chased them both from the place like a pack of crazed hyenas. Hycilanthi met them near the fountain, just as she had met Trunks. It was a prize in her duties to be able to feel those of another faith crossing into her sphere. She was not to be disappointed when she laid eyes on Vegeta. She felt drawn to him. Every instinct in her told her that this one was of a darkened past. A possible convert. She ran her tongue over her dark red lips with a wolfish smile, and made her move. The big guy was definitely of the good persuasion. Hycilanthi ignored him, and turned her whole attention on Vegeta, much to Vegeta's dismay. He had finally broke free of her vise-like grip and pushed his way through the milling throng of market goers. Goku followed close behind him, his eyes staring around this odd and wonderful place with intense curiosity. Hyci kept close to the two, and watched them like an undead watches its catch, and she didn't stop them as they turned down the side road that led further from the castle.
"How are we to find him if every damn brick in this town feels as if its been saturated with ki?" Vegeta grumbled and turned down an alley. Hyci smiled to herself and followed quietly.
A light lunch with Darkness, and Trunks was suddenly not so sure about the line between good and evil. The man did not attempt to seduce him to the side of the dark. He made no moves to question his beliefs, or to persuade him that evil was the way to go. They talked of many things. It was a pleasant time, Trunks would later recall. A moment in his life where fear, uncertainty, and care had faded into the shadows, and left him free to just relax. After a lunch of stew and sandwiches, Trunks was lead down through a maze of halls and doors, into a huge cavernous chamber full of glass orbs that hovered and glowed. Darkness stopped before the largest in the room, and whispered something to it in the same strange language the two men in robes had used. The orb flared to gloriously colorful life, and its hum of energy filled the room. Trunks felt strangely giddy at the feel of the energy. As if he would become drunk on it as he had on the brew the night before.
"Beaster will track the origin of the initial teleport, and I will send you home." Darkness said, "I am sure you have had all of this place that you can handle by now." A grin touched his thin lips, and the tips of his fangs peeked out. Trunks nodded.
"No offense, but… well, evil isn't exactly my choice side to be playing in."
Darkness laughed somewhat dryly. "Evil is everyone's side. You'd do well to accept it. You can't run from man's nature anymore than you can run from yourself. You may not be evil, friend Trunks, but it is in you to be. It is a conscious choice, which side you want to "play" in. You have chosen yours, perhaps wisely at that."
The orb's colorful glow died off and Darkness put his hand on the smooth surface of it. His other hand reached out to his side, his palm outward, and the familiar blue light poured from his fingertips. The teleport split the air, and Trunks smiled in relief. Finally, home…he thought. Darkness lowered his hand and rested it on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his side. Trunks could just make out the skeletal fingers that melted into the crossguards of it, and he shivered without meaning to. "Nice… sword." He nearly whispered.
"He is known as Erathgar… BadLuck in common speak. The Sword of Souls." Darkness grinned slightly then waved a hand at the portal. "Go now. Home awaits you. And do come back and visit sometime."
Trunks stepped up to the portal and felt the pull of the wind tug at his clothes and hair. He watched Darkness for a moment, suspicion, relief, and a sudden mindful of questions rushed him. Darkness raised a brow and his hand at the same time and released a gust of energy that knocked Trunks into the portal. The light swallowed him, then faded. Leaving Darkness to shake his head in the silence.
"One down, two to go. And someone find me those two idiotic magi before they send anything else to me!" He shouted to the crystals.
Trunks tumbled to the grass and lay on his back gasping for air. The blast Darkness had hit him with had knocked the air from his lungs, and he now drew it in to his burning lungs in great gulps. He lay there, in the sunlight and the silence, staring up at the blue sky with unseeing eyes. His mind still raged with questions. And as he sat up, and looked around, he realized that his line between good and evil had just blurred. It was no longer black and white. Life wasn't one or the other. And he supposed that good or bad depended entirely on which side of the tracks you stood on. Caleb and Canthor stood up and approached him. Both of them seemed slightly agitated to see the purple haired man they had blasted clear to the DarkLands.
"Did Vegeta and the other one find you then?" Caleb asked.
Trunks held his breath, then let it out in a rush. "Vegeta is in Morquean?" He asked at last.
Both men nodded. Trunks closed his eyes, and sighed. "Great."