A Crack Within Life [OPEN]

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His eyes kept fixated upon the web of split earth. Thoughts began to race through the Magister’s mind as he contemplated on the existence of such a thing. What exactly had happened in this spot that caused the earth to split as it did? Much of the rest of the area had healed in the centuries leading up to the present day, fixing itself as the land subtly shifted back into place and filling the gaps between. So why was this the only part of the island that remained damaged and broken, wounds still fresh as though they had happened only recently?

It was just one question after another; questions that he would strive to seek answers to.

But before his mind could contemplate on such things, he was met with another individual. Oud could see that this person was a namekian like himself, although he looked quite different from others of their kind. A fin-like protrusion ran vertically around the top of his skull, and two long whiskers flowed from the corners of his upper lip. But more so than that, his entire form flickered and shimmered like frosted glass that was aflame.

The sight of this being not only surprised the Magister but also made him feel somewhat uneasy. Not too far from this area was the Mazoku Gravesite—an area that was the sanctified burial grounds of the Mazoku of old that once called this region their home a long, long time ago. He pondered whether or not this namekian was the unbound, restless spirit of an ancient warrior whose time had long passed.

”Unfortunately I cannot reciprocate the feeling, spirit,” replied the Magister as his hands folded behind his back, one wrapped and locked around the wrist of the other. His fingers tightened and clenched. ”I would say that it is more of a ‘surprise’’ to meet you.”

Yet for all of his cautious posturing, the spirit did not seem malevolent as one would have thought him to be. The way that he presented himself was openly friendly enough, Oud could and would not let his guard down. He knew all too well the power of psychological manipulation. After all, he had practically invented it in recent times on Namek.

”Regardless, I offer you a good day, Mollusc,” replied Oud as he took a couple of steps forward, slowly, making sure that he did not approach too quick so as to leave himself exposed to a quick surprise attack should one arise. ”My name is Oud and I am the Grand Magister and leader of the Mazoku clan. I dare ask—am I speaking with the spirit of a fellow Mazoku clansmen?”

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It was a turn of events that confused the Magister. This namekian was the spirit of a Warrior clansmen and yet his appearance did not suggest that to be the case. Mollusc’s ‘mutations’, for lack of a better word, suggested that he had some amount of Mazoku heritage within him, yet he remained adamant to the contrary. It was a question to be answered, a puzzle to be solved, by Oud. This spirit held secrets and he was determined to find them. ”Very well, then, warrior,” replied the Mazoku with a nod of his head.

It wasn’t long that Mollusc began to tell the Magister of his life—or rather, his past life. He was allegedly killed on planet Vegeta, the home of the saiyans, in a battle to the death against their queen. The particular part was what baffled Oud the most; Vegeta had a king, did it not? How much had changed in the year that he spent drifting about in the endless void of space? First the Guru had died, and now there has been a change of leadership within the upper echelons of the Saiyan Kingdom. So many thoughts clouded the Magister’s mind.

Just how much has happened since he had been gone?

”So not only are you a spirit, but also a foolish one,” he chastised. One foot stepped forward, then another. Slowly he began to walk in a large circle around Mollusc, eyes never leaving his spectral visage. ”You travelled to the very world of the saiyans,” he continued, pathing out the series of events that lead to the warrior’s demise. ”You waded into the very heart of your enemies. Then, you, a single namekian warrior, challenged their strongest fighter—their Queen—to a duel… and it cost you your life.”

By the time he had finished his monologue, Oud had made his way back to where he started. He gazed into the eyes of the warrior, glaring through the veil that shadowed their soul. ”Then I must ask if this was the outcome you expected… and if it was worth it.”

That was something that would be answered soon but not until the Magister would offer another explanation to the question Mollusc had posed. ”This place—” he head turned and slowly swayed from one side to the other. His gaze fanned out into the distance, over the hills and mountains, sight glancing over at the hallowed cracks and splits in the earth and rocks around ”—was once the lands that the Mazoku once called ‘home’. But, that was a long time ago.”

A hand unfurled from behind him and gestured into the east. ”Beyond here lies the Mazoku Gravesite—the ancient, sanctified grounds where past Mazoku warriors and sages are buried, their lives given to the cause of protecting not only their clan but their entire race.”

A small sight escaped the Magister as he lowered his arm, then brought it behind him once more. ”In time, I shall reclaim these lands and re-establish the society that had since been lost to antiquity. Upon these cracked and broken plains I shall rebuild the Mazoku Clan to its rightful glory.”

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It came as a bit of a surprise to the Magister to find out that this spectral warrior had unlocked the power of a super namekian. The way that Mollusc looked, combined with the alleged power that he possessed, gave Oud a reason to suspect that they were telling the truth. He had heard of certain namekians in the past that underwent changes in appearances once they had reached a certain threshold of power, though most times they were of the Mazoku Caste, their possession of dark demon magic and energies causing them to undergo mutations.

But not the Magister. He remembered when he had that kind of power once. He was an unrivalled master of the dark arts as far as Namek society was concerned. He remembered the power he had once possessed, where no living thing on this planet could rival him. They could not even come close to him unless he willed it. They couldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. And now that power was being flaunted in front of him by a worthless ghost who had gambled it all and lost.

Just like he did. That thought made the Magister relax not out of comfort but out of resignment. What was lost could be regained in due time.

”It seems as though much has happened in my absence,” the Mazoku finally voiced, letting his thoughts turn to words. ”When I was last here, Namek and Vegeta had a peace treaty; a tenuous one at best, but one nonetheless. For you to circumvent the accord and attack them of your own volition means that something has happened to strain—if not completely break down—the relations between our two races. Perhaps you can tell em more of what has transpired.”

But there was more to this than just petty squabbles between two races. This now had to do with the threat that the saiyans now posed towards his own people. Right now, the Magister, the Guru, and the Warriors were working their way towards revitalizing Namek, to bring renewed prosperity to a race that had often been taken advantage of. After what had happened in times long passed, they had to re-establish themselves in the cosmos once more.

Now, with Mollusc waging his one-man army on the queen of the saiyans, it was going to make things a lot more difficult for Oud and Oboe.

”That, of course, is the plan,” responded the Magister. ”The young Guru has already began to set up plans to establish a new hierarchy for the namekian people. Individuals of each of the namekian castes will be chosen as leaders—the Guru will lead the Dragon Clan, and I the Mazoku; the Warriors have yet to decide on an elected person. From there we form a triumvirate that will dictate Namek’s course through history.

“We are the Namekian Concordia.”

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Oud could not help but give a small, pitied grin as he shook his head. ”And you think that matters in the least, spirit?” asked the Magister, though he quickly continued before Mollusc had the chance to respond, ”Regardless of alignment, present or a lack thereof, your enemies will use that against you. When—not if—they decide to retaliate against you, to get even with you, they will look at any avenue to do so. They may attack you. They may also attack anything and anyone close to you. When they realize that you are back on your home planet, they will use that against you.”

Now things were beginning to get interesting. For the longest time the peace treaty between the namekians and the saiyans had been tenuous, especially amongst those of the Mazoku clan. Now, with the tuffles claiming sanctuary on Namek aster the saiyans had allegedly drove them to near-extinction, that pact was going to be strained more and more like a bamboo shoot in the winds of a howling gale.

It was only a matter of time until it would break.

And, now, it was revealed that Mollusc was also a part of the Concordia. It was any wonder why the Guru had not revealed this to the Magister himself. Moreover, it became apparent that this spirit had also met with Namek’s leader, once again under Oud’s blind eye. Regardless, it cemented the allegiance of this spirit with that of the rest of Namek; that was not to be contested now. However, it also opened up another avenue for the saiyans to exploit should they wish to claim a retaliatory strike.

”Then it pleases me—the Grand Magister of the Mazoku clan—to welcome you into the Namekian Concordia,” responded Oud as he held his hands out in gesture of his welcoming. ”We needn’t discuss the trivial things such as your place within the faction; those are not important right now.”

With a hum, he turned to look beyond the shore of the cracked plains, his eyes gazing out towards the Great Namek Sea. The waters were calm. Small rippled formed and waved and crested against the gentle winds. Light glistened upon the surface, a soft gold against the green. All seemed peaceful. It was any wonder how long it would last.

”What is important is the work that we must strive to achieve to ensure prosperity for the namekian people. Right now, that is the goal of the Concordia. I assume that you are up to the task, Mollusc?”

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It was a refreshing change of decorum once the spirit of the namekian warrior began to show a more aggressive side to him. Indeed, the Saiyan Kingdom would come to regret their decision should they decide to incur some sort of retaliatory strike against the namekian people. ”Such strong words,” replied the Magister, his lips turning up a crooked grin on his face as he spoke. ”Yet, words that I have longed to hear from a fellow namekian. Yes, they will come to regret their decisions… in due time.”

It was no secret that there had been some rise of discontent in the people of Namek over the tenuous pact with the saiyans as of late. While the Magister was not around for these events, he had been apprised of the recent situations regarding the saiyans of Vegeta coming to this planet in order to gather and use the dragon balls. Destruction was left in their wake in their vying over them. Many were also killed. It was apparently around the same time to old Guru had died.

That was more than enough reason for Oud to harbour a grudge against them. They had denied him his vengeance.

Regardless of the notion, Oud had a new goal. He could use that discontent to strain the relations between Namek and Vegeta. He could use that silver tongue of his to ever-so-slowly nudge the populace into believing in conflict with the Saiyan Kingdom. Perhaps he could even bend this warrior spirit into thinking the same way. After all, they had already tried attacking their queen once.

”No, you will or will not. There is no try,” responded the Magister rather bluntly though truth was laced between the words he spoke. ”But the task I have for you will be an easy one given your area of expertise. I want you to go and regale the people of Namek of your valiant sacrifice against the tyrannical queen of the saiyans. Stir their hearts. Give our warriors a reason to fight. Then, teach them what you know. Prepare them for war for when it comes.”

Oud paused. While he had a plan laid out before him, there was still one thing that stood in the way of it—Guru. The Magister was not fully certain of where Oboe stood in regards of the friction between the two races. Oud would have to try and keep him occupied, or in the very least diverge his attention away from the matter until he can persuade him of the saiyan’s debauchery.

”I suggest that you also seek out the Guru and see if he has any other tasks of you. I’m sure he can find some use of you as well.”

If he could use Mollusc to divert Oboe’s attention from these matters, then that would prove useful to the bigger picture.

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The Magister grinned with a chuckle. It had been a while since he had been around anyone from the warrior clan. It was refreshing to hear such strong words again. ”Yes, of course,” he spoke as he took a few steps forward, turning his gaze towards the namekian spirit. ”Actions do speak louder than words, all things considered.”

And yet for all of Mollusc’s bluster, it seemed as though he was adamant on keeping the truth be known to his fellow namekians rather than spin the narrative in his favour. It looked as though truth and honour trumped any form of subtlety. ”And yet that is not a reason you’re your fellow warrior clansmen will get behind,” he responded. It seemed that the Mazoku would have to teach the ghost on the importance of the silver lining. ”You rushed headstrong into a losing battle not out of duty to your people but to duty to your own selfish pride. Your warriors will see you as a liability, not as a leader to follow; see you as reckless, not for the wisdom in which you must have. To stir the hearts of others, you must give them something to relate to—something to fight for.”

He paused. If this spirit would not tell one truth, then maybe he can tell them another instead. ”If you have some way of inspiring your warriors to fight for some cause, then I will leave you to that. Perhaps there is some other way for you to do just that.” He turned to look out into the distant, eyes catching upon the blue isles that lay not too far from the horizon. ”As for myself… I have been told we have some ‘visitors.’ I hear they have come to seek sanctuary from the Saiyan Kingdom after their planet’s destruction.”

His grin returned, more gruelling and jagged. ”They have an enemy. An enemy that we may very well be sharing in the not-to-distant future. Perhaps… we will be allied on that one front. A few alien recruits will help bolster our defenses.”