CHAPTER 3

Hunters Saga, Part III

“Revelations.”

            Slowly, ignoring the jolts of pain that coursed throughout his battered body, the young hunter stood to his feet.  His eyes were blinded by the bright sun, and he shielded them with his hand as he tried to regain his bearings.  The environment around him appeared to be some kind of desert wasteland, though it may have been otherwise before the crash of the Gelnika.  Large pieces of the ship lay strewn about, but most of the cruiser remained intact, though it would obviously never fly again.  As Miura took a step forward, the pain in his ribs became unbearable, forcing him to his knees.  Again the hunter attempted to stand, but it was no use, and again he fell to the ground as darkness overcame him…

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Three years earlier…

            Gilliam, emperor of Galdria, looked down upon the young nobleman, disappointment clearly evident on his face.  The green-haired ruler absently rubbed his chin, contemplating Miura’s unusual request.  Gilliam sat in his personal quarters, having granted Miura’s desire for a private meeting.  The emperor stood up and began pacing around the richly decorated room, stopping for moment to stare intently at a large rack of ancient books.  He sighed as he returned his attention to Miura.

            “I understand your reasons for wishing to leave, Arius.  Zellis is very important to you, and you only wish to see that she remains safe.”  The young nobleman slowly looked up, locking eyes with his emperor, and his mother’s executioner.  Gilliam stared coldly back, eventually closing his eyes and shaking his head.  After returning to his seat, Galdria’s emperor continued.  “You are no fool, so I’ll not try and hide it any more.  Arius, you will be my heir… I need you here, to finish your education.”

            Miura gasped, his eyes widening in surprise.  “My lord, I… I had no idea.”  Gilliam sighed as he ran his hand through his long, dark-green hair.  After lowering his gaze, Miura swallowed hard, unsure of his next words.  “Why me?  Why allow a half-breed like me to become emperor?”  The young nobleman raised his eyes, seeing to his surprise the look of exhaustion and weariness that now came over Gilliam’s face.

            “Because there is no one else.  And because my daughter is very fond of you,” the emperor replied.  “And because I am guilty of things from the past that I cannot now, unfortunately, undo.  Arius,” Gilliam said quietly, his voice thick with emotion, “your mother was very special to me…”  The emperor was cut off as Miura snorted and stood to his feet, turning his back on his ruler.  Gilliam closed his eyes as a single tear ran down his cheek.

            “How dare you talk to me about my mother,” the young half-Saiyan whispered through clenched teeth.  “I never even knew her because of you; you had her killed because of some antiquated law.”  Miura looked at Gilliam over his shoulder, his face red with anger.  “And now I’m supposed to become the next emperor, the emperor of a people who murdered my parents?”  Tears began streaming down Miura’s face as he looked away, ignoring the look of sorrow on Gilliam’s face.  With his fists clenched, the young nobleman walked briskly toward the door, stopping long enough to speak once more.  “And how dare you talk to me about Elysia?  You’re the one who’s been dead set against our relationship for years, so don’t try to tell me that you’re doing this for her.”  Miura flashed an angry glare at the emperor, his body trembling as he attempted to hold back more tears.  “You’re doing this for you.  Do you think that Ellia will forgive you if you make me the next emperor?  I pity you, you poor fool…”

            “Arius, wait,” Gilliam begged, rising from his seat.  “I know that I’ve wronged you, and I wish with all my heart that I could bring your mother back, but I can’t!”  The emperor strode forward, grabbing the young nobleman lightly by the arm.  “Just hear me out, please…”

            “I’ve heard enough,” Miura said softly as he pulled away from Gilliam’s grasp.  “I’m going with Z.”  With that Miura left Gilliam’s presence, prepared to accompany Zellis on her bounty hunter training, regardless of his emperor’s wishes…

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            Miura’s eyes fluttered open as he took in the sight of a dimly lit room around him.  He could sense that there were people around him, but everything else still seemed blurry, and none of the figures that he sensed could be seen.

            “Z?  Clef?  Is that you?”  The half-Galdrian hunter sat up from the soft bed that he’d been lying in as his vision started to clear.  He closed his eyes and shook his head as he was struck by a crippling bout of dizziness. 

            “Just take it easy, son,” said a man’s voice from off to his right.  “You’re lucky we found you when we did, otherwise you’d probably be dead right now… Too bad about the others though.”  The man, who Miura still couldn’t make out clearly, sighed.  “How many were on your ship anyway?  I mean, if you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

            Miura tried to answer, but the man’s comment about “others” had caused the words to stick in his throat.  After a moment of disbelief, Miura spoke.  “What do you mean?  What others?”  Gradually, as the young hunter’s vision cleared, he saw for the first time the two people who shared the room with him.

            The first was man, middle aged with short dark hair that was streaked with grey.  He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in days, but his clothes were clean and he looked very fit and healthy.  He was dressed strangely, but Miura realized that the clothing, which consisted of loose white pants, a baggy shirt and vest, and a turban-like hat upon his head, marked the man as a desert dweller.  His skin was dark, but Miura was unsure if it was a natural color or merely tanned by the hot desert sun.  The second person, an old woman, had a similar complexion, though her skin was wrinkled and her hair grey and white.  Both had light blue eyes that stood out brightly against their darkened faces.

            “You should never have said anything about the other two, Scherez,” the old woman muttered to the man.  “Now you’ve gone and worried him, and he isn’t even fully recovered!”  Slowly the old woman turned her gaze to Miura, and she lowered her eyes and sighed.  We recovered two other folks from the wreckage out there.  One, a Namek by the looks of him, isn’t doing so well.  The other… Well, maybe we ought to just let you see for yourself.”  The man, whom the old woman had called Scherez, helped Miura stand to his feet.  The young Saiyan was surprised to see that all of his wounds had been tended to, and he was dressed in clean clothing, similar to the desert garb of Scherez.  The two strangers led Miura into an adjoining chamber where a second bed was located.  As sheet was draped over what appeared to be the form of a sleeping person, but the half-Galdrian knew better.

            Miura slowly walked toward the bed, aided by Scherez, and as he went he felt a dread creeping up on him.  One of his friends, unless by some miracle it was Hanzo, was lying before him dead.  The young hunter reached for the top of the sheet, and he gasped as he pulled it down, revealing the face of the body.  He stood silent for a moment as he closed his eyes, and with a trembling hand he replaced the sheet.

            “Seth,” Miura whispered.  “I’m so sorry… I should be dead, not you.  Hanzo was after me, only me.”  The half-Saiyan hunter leaned against the wall and remained silent for a while, untroubled by Scherez and the old woman.  After several minutes Scherez cleared his throat and gestured to a third room that lay at the end of a short hallway.

            “Perhaps we should take him to the Namek now, Niena,” Scherez said as he turned to face the old woman.  She nodded and motioned for him to once again assist Miura.  Everyone was silent as the three of them moved gradually down the hallway.  Niena opened the door as Miura and Scherez entered the third room.

            Clef lay unmoving on a bed in the center of the small, dim chamber.  His breathing, barely noticeable in the shadowy room, was shallow, but he showed no outwardly visible wounds.  “I hate to tell you this, but he probably won’t make it,” Niena said as she shook her head in dismay.

            Scherez rolled his eyes at the old woman.  “You don’t know that for sure.  Namek’s are pretty durable, I hear.  He may still come out of it.”  The dark-skinned man guided Miura to a chair in the corner and helped him sit down.  “What happened up there, on your ship?  How many people were with you when you went down?  With a ship that size I’d expect to find a lot more than three people.”

            Miura, who had had his head bowed with sorrow, slowly looked up.  “You mean you only found the three of us, no others?”  Scherez shook his head as he leaned against the opposite wall.  Z and Twilight could still be alive somewhere, Miura thought as a slight glimmer of hope entered his mind.  Then his thoughts again turned to darkness as he realized that Hanzo may have lived also.  Niena, who had seated herself in a chair next to the bed, stood up and stretched.

            “It’s still early, and you’re still hurt, unless I’m mistaken,” the old woman said.  “How about we get you some food and drink, then you can introduce yourself and tell us all about these ‘others’ of yours.”

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            They had been talking in what appeared to be the kitchen, seated around a small, round table.  The two desert dwellers remained quiet for several moments, allowing the young hunter’s story to sink in.  Scherez leaned forward in his seat, resting his chin in one hand as he looked across the table at the old woman.  Niena, who hadn’t spoken a single word as Miura relayed his tale, sat back with a slight scowl on her weathered face.  Eventually she spoke.

            “That’s quite a story, my young friend,” she said to Miura, who had stood up and was now leaning against the wall opposite her.  “And if it weren’t for the powerful evil presence that I’ve been feeling since your crash, I probably wouldn’t believe you.  To think, a Saiyan that somehow escaped Frieza’s destruction of planet Vegeta.”  Miura stared at Niena in surprise, startled that she was able to feel so strongly the negative energy that must belong to Hanzo.  She smiled as she noticed the look of amazement that the half-Galdrian tried so hard to conceal.  “I know what you’re thinking, young one.  A planet like Applicah is probably brimming with bad energy, but not like I’ve been feeling lately.  My people have senses that are very in tune with any disturbance to this planet’s life force.  You see, Scherez and I are the last two native Applicans alive.”

            “So you’re saying that Hanzo survived the crash,” Miura muttered.  “Damn, I should have known I couldn’t be so lucky.”  Miura stood up straight and stretched the aching muscles of his back and ribs.  “That’s it then.  I have to find him.  Maybe he knows what happened to Zellis and Twilight, if they’re still alive.”  The young half Saiyan absently rubbed the bandage that covered the large gash in his forehead.  “You both know that assisting a hunter in a time of need will get you a pretty hefty reward, and I intend to return here as soon as I can dig up the necessary funds.”  With that Miura left the room and made his way to the entrance of the underground desert home.

            “Now wait a second, Miura,” Scherez said as he and Niena followed the bounty hunter down the long, up-sloping corridor.  “You’re in no condition to fight anyone, let alone this Saiyan.  Stay here for a while and rest up.  Who knows, maybe Clef will even come to and the both of you can find Hanzo, together.”  Miura stopped and looked at the two strangers who had taken him in and, in all respects, probably saved his life.  He was about to turn down the suggestion of Scherez when something behind the two Applicans caught his eye.

            “Oh my god,” Miura gasped as his eyes widened in surprise.  “Clef…”  Scherez and Niena whipped around, finding themselves face to face with the injured Namekian.  Miura took a few steps forward then stopped.  “Stay here Clef; I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

            “No!” the Namekian warrior shouted at Miura.  “I think you should reconsider his request, my friend.”  Slowly Clef made his way toward the young Galdrian, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat.  “You have a lot of preparations to make before you go looking for Hanzo.  If you fought him now, he’d probably tear you apart.”  Upon reaching Miura, Clef put his hand on the half-Saiyan’s shoulder.  “Let our wounds heal, and then we’ll face him.  Together.”

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            Miura and Clef were now fully healed, and they spent all of their time training and preparing for the battle ahead.  As the two warriors focused on the coming conflict, Scherez used all of his resources to locate their missing comrades.  Niena, who had devotedly nursed Clef and Miura back to health, remained in the compound, trying with all of her might to “lock on” to the energy signatures of Zellis and Twilight.

            Although he had underwent various forms of combat training to become a bounty hunter, Miura knew that to stand a chance against someone like Hanzo he’d have to forget everything he’d learned.  Hanzo was no mere criminal, and his Saiyan fighting techniques had obviously been too much for the young nobleman to handle.  So in preparation for the coming battle, Clef had taken it upon himself to teach Miura all that he could regarding the ancient Namekian style of combat, and the young Saiyan was more than ready to learn.  The two warriors had been outside for most of the day, sparring with each other near the unmarked grave where Seth had been laid to rest, when Scherez’s hover bike approached the compound from the direction of Felcian, the nearest major city.  The desert dweller leapt from his bike almost before it had stopped, and he ran toward Miura and Clef, apparently very shaken up about something.

            “Clef, Miura!  I’ve found him!” Scherez shouted as he neared the two exhausted warriors.  The half-Saiyan and the Namekian ran toward their dark-skinned companion, desiring to immediately hear his news.  “Several acquaintances of mine from Felcian told me that a stranger has been seen around the city of late,” Scherez told them as he gasped for breath.  “They say he is dressed in a long, hooded cloak in this ridiculous heat!  Can you imagine!?  But that isn’t the oddest part.  My sources tell me that he desperately seeks information about the crash!  He says that he is searching for any of his companions that may have survived!”  Miura looked at the Namekian warrior, silently asking for his thoughts on this matter.

            Clef looked down for a moment, remaining silent as Scherez finally caught his breath.  “How can we know for sure?” the green-skinned warrior asked.  “How do we know that this is Hanzo?”  Scherez grinned at him, obviously hoping that this question would be asked.  Clef glared at him and clenched his teeth as he spoke.  “Well, out with it you desert rat!” he shouted, playfully insulting his newfound companion.

            “Very well, my friend, very well,” Scherez said as he moved closer to the two warriors, as if trying to keep some grand secret.  “This particular man is often seen purchasing large amounts of food, enough for say… three people?”  Miura’s eyes widened in surprise as comprehension dawned on him.  “Besides,” the desert-dweller said, “my friends from Felcian tell me that the stranger ‘gives off a bad aura,’ one that they find most unpleasant.  And believe me, for these particular individuals to say that this man is unpleasant means quite a lot.”

            Miura grabbed Scherez by the shoulders and shook him, staring into the desert dweller’s light blue eyes.  “This means that Twilight and Z may have survived the crash!  If this man is Hanzo, I have to know where he is.”  Scherez merely smiled at the young nobleman as he slowly pulled a slip of paper from his baggy white shirt.  Miura released the Applican as he took the paper from his hand.  Clef moved behind his young friend, to better see what was written on the slip.  The two warriors looked at the writing on the paper, unable to read the strange Applican script.

            Scherez laughed as he took the paper back.  “It is directions to a secluded spot in the mountains west of here; apparently this unusual fellow is more than happy to reveal his location to anyone who he feels may have information about the Gelnika.  He seems to be very intent on ‘reuniting’ with you, my friends.”

            Miura looked at Clef questioningly.  “But why now, after so much time has passed?” he asked.  “Why not just track us down and kill us while we were still injured?”

            Clef was silent for several moments.  Finally he spoke, smiling slightly as he did so.  “Isn’t it obvious?  He must have been just as injured as we were, if not worse.”  He nodded to himself as he began to laugh softly.  “Seth, you old dog, your sword must have bit even deeper than we thought.”  The Namekian bodyguard turned toward his young companion.  “So, what do you think Miura?”

            The half-Galdrian looked Clef in the eyes, his face a mask of determination.  “We rest tonight, and tomorrow we take him.”

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            Their farewells had been said earlier that morning, with Miura vowing to return not only for Seth’s body, but also to bestow upon the two Applicans his promised reward.  After going over the route to the location one more time with Scherez and Niena, Clef and Miura were on their way.  They had been flying less than an hour when Miura spotted something just ahead.

            “There,” he shouted to his companion.  “I see the clearing that Scherez must have been talking about.”  Clef narrowed his eyes and looked ahead; sure enough the Namek could see a small valley in the mountains, clear of all trees and other vegetation.  Small outcroppings of stone could be seen scattered throughout the clearing, along with something else that caught the attention of the two warriors.  On the far west side of the clearing, a small, makeshift shelter had been constructed, and smoke could be seen issuing from what appeared to be a chimney.  Clef looked toward Miura and nodded, agreeing with the young hunter’s assumption.  The two warriors landed in the middle of the valley, gasping in surprise as a figure emerged from the rough shelter.

            “Hanzo,” Clef said with a wicked grin.  “You don’t look so good, friend.”  Miura glared at the Saiyan before him, and he was forced to agree with his companion’s assessment.  Hanzo stood before them dressed in the same clothing he had worn on the Gelnika, though by now it was dirty and torn almost beyond recognition.  The cloak was smeared with mud and dirt, and it was tattered at the edges.  The jumpsuit beneath it was also torn to shreds, and it was a miracle that it was still wearable.  Dark circles were visible around the Saiyan’s eyes, and his cheekbones could easily be seen in his gaunt face.  Hanzo’s hair was a mess, filled with dirt and brush, and he now bore a large scar on his forehead, just above his left eyebrow.

            The evil Saiyan warrior grinned maniacally at the two opponents before him.  “Well, well, out of hiding now?  I thought maybe you were killed in the crash, lucky for me I was wrong.”  He glared at Miura as he took a step forward.  “I don’t know what I would have done if my revenge was stolen from me by some stupid accident…”

            “I don’t care about your ‘revenge’ Hanzo.  Where are Z and Twilight?  If you have them let them go, I’m here now.”  Miura began walking slowly toward Hanzo, with Clef just a step behind.  “You have no reason to keep them now, understand?”  Hanzo merely nodded, not taking his eyes off of the two warriors approaching him.  The Saiyan took a step back, moving toward the makeshift shelter.

            “Alright you two, come on out.  You’re free to go now.”  The black-clad Saiyan reached over and opened the small doorway before stepping aside.  Miura gasped in relief as Zellis and Twilight stepped out of the shelter.  The girls, while both a little dirty, looked healthy and clean, and no wounds were visible on either of them.  They were dressed in desert garb similar to what he and Clef wore, and this surprised the young nobleman after having seen the rags that Hanzo was still dressed in.  As he looked over the two young women, Miura noticed that each of them had a strange device strapped to their right leg.  The young Galdrian hunter returned his attention to Hanzo, who smiled slightly as he noticed Miura’s observation.

            “Just a little security measure, in case either of them tried to escape.  You know, you’d be surprised at the kind of cargo I found in the wreckage of the ship after it crashed.  There were weapons that even I’ve never seen before, so I was able to whip up these remote explosives pretty easily.”  He glared at his two opponents as they stopped in place, prepared to attack.  “Now, now, don’t worry, I’ll remove them.  I have no intention of killing these two; they have nothing to do with this.”

            Hanzo knelt down before the two girls as he removed the explosive devices.  After tossing them aside, he stood to his feet, tilting his head toward Miura and Clef.  Zellis ran to Miura, throwing her arms around him as tears streamed down her face.  “I thought you’d been killed,” she sobbed as she buried her face against his neck.  Miura embraced his adopted sister, kissing her lightly on the forehead.  After several moments, Zellis stepped back, wiping her eyes on the long, baggy sleeve of her white desert shirt.  “Did you find Seth’s body?  Twilight and I saw it before Hanzo took us…”  Miura nodded, looking to Twilight, who stood just behind Z.

            Clef lowered his head in shame as Twilight approached him.  “Forgive me; I wasn’t able to protect your father like I should have.”  The beautiful young woman walked toward him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

            “Nonsense, Clef.  You’ve been with us for years, and in that time you’ve saved us plenty of times.”  She smiled at him sadly as he looked her in the eyes.  “It was an accident.  You did everything you could.”  Tears clouded her maroon eyes as she looked away.  “Just promise me that when this is over you’ll help me give him a proper burial.”  Clef nodded as he looked past her to Hanzo, who stood leaning calmly against the small shelter.

            Zellis and Twilight stepped aside as Miura and Clef assumed fighting stances.  The two girls slowly began moving backward, getting as much space between themselves and the three combatants as possible.  Once they were safely into the forest, Miura glared at Hanzo, who still stood quietly in front of the shack.

            “Before I’m forced to kill you,” Miura said to Hanzo through clenched teeth, “I want to know why you’re doing this.”  Hanzo slowly took several steps forward, leaving only a few feet between himself and the young nobleman.  Miura and the Saiyan warrior glared at each other, neither one trying to hide their contempt for one another.  “Answer me.  You’re responsible for Seth’s death, and for us being stranded here.  You held Twilight and my sister captive for almost six months, and you owe me an explanation!”

            Hanzo flashed his two opponents a sinister smile.  “Very well; I suppose I owe you something.”  The mysterious Saiyan turned his back on his opponents, walking slowly toward the shelter.  Once he had put some distance between himself and his opponents, Hanzo turned to face them, arms crossed over his chest.  “Let me tell you a story.  A long time ago, before you were born Miura, there was a Saiyan named Pare, who had managed to escape planet Vegeta’s destruction with his wife.  For almost twenty years the two of them lived in peace on an uninhabited planet called Iquela, until Pare’s wife died while giving birth to their son.  Though he mourned the loss of his lover, Pare was proud to have a son, and he was determined to do his best to raise him right.  As the years passed, the two Saiyans lived off the land, and with his father’s help the boy became a great hunter and fighter.  One day, Pare told the boy that he had to leave, that he had dreamed that other Saiyans were still alive on a planet called Earth.  The boy was afraid, but his father told him to stay strong and be brave.  Pare said that he would be back soon, but that it was too dangerous for the boy to go with him.”  Hanzo stopped for a moment, barely able to conceal his wrath.  He uncrossed his arms and began to pace back and forth as he continued.

            “So the boy put on a brave face for his father, and he promised to be strong until Pare returned.  Little did the boy know that he would never see his father again, and that his life would soon be turned into a living hell.”  Hanzo stopped again, standing with his back to Miura and Clef.  Looking over his shoulder, Hanzo returned to his tale, speaking softly, as if to himself.  “Several years passed, and Pare didn’t return.  One day, the boy saw a ship land on a nearby island, and he was overjoyed, thinking that his father had returned.  But it wasn’t Pare; it was a band of slavers from a nearby planet.  The boy tried to fight off the slavers, but there were too many, and he was taken.”

            Miura narrowed his eyes, only half-guessing what Hanzo was getting at.  “Get on with it,” he growled to the Saiyan warrior.  “I didn’t ask for a whole damn story, so quit stalling.”  Clef stood silently behind his companion, guessing more than Miura at what Hanzo was building up to.  Miura took a step forward, his body trembling with rage.  “I should kill you right now.”

            Hanzo again turned to face his opponents.  “Maybe you’re right, but I think you might be better off letting me finish.”  The mysterious black-clad Saiyan took several steps toward the two warriors before he continued.  “Abandoned by his father and sold into slavery, the boy was changed, he was made harder, and he learned for the first time about the cruelties and evils of the universe.  As the years drug painfully on, the boy became much stronger, and eventually he used this new strength to destroy his captors.  He spent the next few years of his life searching for any information he could find about his father.”  Hanzo gave Miura a look of pure hatred that made the young half-Saiyan’s blood run cold.  “It wasn’t long before he found that information.”

            Suddenly recognition hit Miura, and he gasped in amazement, unable to fully comprehend what it was that Hanzo was saying.  “My god,” Miura uttered in disbelief.  “You can’t be serious…”  Hanzo remained still, his face contorted with hatred and rage.

            “That’s right, my friend.  Pare was on his way to Earth when his ship malfunctioned and crash landed on a planet full of stuck up, rich, egocentric bastards.  A planet called Galdria.  He was taken in by a young noblewoman named Ellia de Galdri, and they supposedly fell in love.”  Hanzo smiled evilly, seeing the look of undisguised shock on Miura’s face.  “Apparently Pare knocked this noblewoman up before their relationship was made public; before those ignorant fools executed him.  That’s right, Miura; he was my father.  Or should I say, our father?”

To be continued…