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(Certain characters copyright H. Kanzaka / R. Araizumi, obviously. If I ever even considered claiming that those were my own characters I'd probably be thrown into a small cell where I'd be forced to eat my own testicular fortitude to live.)
Check out the web center with fanart and more, at --> http://pixelscapes.com/slayers/starboard <--
Author's Notes: This is a prologue to the Slayers Starboard series. I've decided to release it to the web only, not the FFML, as a gift to my loyal online readers who aren't afraid to use technology invented after the Carter administration. ^_^ It should serve as a good 'Huh?' puzzle piece to understand as you read the actual series; it's a lot more dramatic and mysterious than the actual episodes will be, so please pardon mood shift. I hope you enjoy the series, and off we go.
Before there was a there, there was a nothing.
It was not a nothing like any nothing seen before. It was a nothing that was a something; a great rolling sea of chaos, volumetric in scope but planar in fashion. It existed without existing, in the sense that it could BE, without becoming. The Sea of Chaos is/was/will never be something that can be easily grasped by anything not on the same level as itself.
For it was alive, in a sense, in the sense that anything conceptual could be alive. Perhaps it was a god. There would be a time when it would be called the Lord of Nightmares by those who could never possibly understand it, but for now, it simply was without becoming.
Time did not exist for it, because there wasn't any time yet. Until there was.
The exact moment that time began was the moment that a great crashing wave echoed throughout the Sea of Chaos. The great ocean warped and bubbled, the chain reaction set off deep within itself throwing up a massive tsunami... the wave shot skyward (if there was a sky), and once it had parted from the Sea of Chaos... it solidified.
Water congealed and bubbled, reality snapping into focus as a flat disc started to take shape. Like a candle un-burning, it went from a soft, defocused wad of rapidly drying chaos into a plate, a plate with lumps and bumps, and great rolling clouds and a sky full of stars and a sun and...
Time ticked once and the world was done. It rested on a great pillar out of the Sea of Chaos, and that was that. NOW there was a there that future people could accept and understand.
Of course, it would turn out that accepting it and understanding it would preoccupy the entirety of their lives, as sure as the stars twinkled, as sure as the sun rose and set and time marched on. But at least they'd have somewhere to sit while they worked at the meaning of life.
Speed on through this place. Past the first 'days' of the world, day being a very new concept, and straight into the first war between the god Ceipheed and demon Shaburanigdo. Skies whirled and burned overhead as the two dominant forces of the world fought for its destruction or salvation, neither having the upper hand for long. Whatever shape 'there' was in to begin with changed drastically due to the fighting, but eventually things settled down when a stalemate was declared, and the humans could get on with their lives.
The humans barely survived the wars, but once the first war was over and done with nobody else seemed to rise to the challenge of being the Alpha Species. Upgraded from a basic indigenous animal phylum but not by much, they still lived in caves and picked lice out of each other's hair. They were up to only slightly crude tools, and fire was a simply very interesting new innovation that could be applied to the mass market with enough research and risk assessment.
One fine evening, as the moon was starting its rise and the holy men chanted to it in hopes that it would keep them from being eaten by locusts again, one of those humans was sitting on his favorite rock and working at the meaning of life. This was interrupted by one of his mates.
"Ahhaag, talk to your offspring!" she demanded, whacking him on the head with a stick. "He's off doing some damn fool thing by the big water with those delinquents and says he's not coming back to the cave!"
(Of course, their actual speech was little more than organized grunts, and has to be parsed into modern tongues to become understandable for the purposes of this exercise.)
Ahhaag glared a bit at his mate. "Bitch, bitch, bitch. So what if he goes off on a lark? Mark my words, he'll be back by the morning. That boy isn't right in the head, but Ahhaag didn't raise a fool."
"It's those no good kids, filling his head with ideas," she growled/grunted. "Playing around with that newfangled fire and trying to make crude implements that use moving parts. I don't think he plans to EVER come back to the cave, Ahhaag! Now go talk some sense into him or I won't prepare the nuts and berries!"
"Fine, if it'll make you happy, I'll go," Ahhaag grumbled, getting to his feet. "Honestly, Ooaogh, you worry too much..."
He dusted off his bearskin and wandered out of the cave... it wasn't a very long walk to the big water, as their cave was right on the sands. Very picturesque, if you cared for that sort of thing, but the big water was totally useless... they had to walk four miles just to get to the smaller winding water, the one you could drink from without getting cramps. Still, it was his father's cave, and his father's before that and he felt no reason to leave. Nor should the boy.
As expected, the kid was on the sands by the big water, working with those strange friends of his on something. It was a contraption unlike anything Ahhaag had seen before: a couple of logs lashed together with woven strips of bearskin, with some big log sticking up in the middle with a stretched skin that flapped in the wind. They were busy adjusting the skin when Ahhaag interrupted.
"Eegah? C'mon, boy, let's head back," he said in paternal tones, waving his offspring on. "Your mother's got some choice nuts and berries and the sun will soon be setting."
Eegah, the scrawny youngling, was too busy tying down the flapping cloth to look at his father. "I'm leaving, dad," he announced. "Just like I told ma. I'm leaving and I'm probably not coming back."
"Don't be daft, boy. There's nowhere to GO."
"Yes, there is!" Eegah explained, yanking the knot shut, and climbing down from the strange thing. "Out there! Across the big water! We built a... a... well, we don't have a name for it yet but it's going to take us somewhere else!"
"Eegah, there's nothing out there!" Ahhaag protested, getting a little annoyed at his son's absurdity. "If there was, wouldn't we be able to see it? There's nothing but the big water! What's your problem, anyway? You're always off on some damned fool adventure with these crazies, getting into trouble, neglecting your chores--"
"I don't want to be a hunter/gatherer, dad! I want to do something with my life! I need something else..."
"What's so bad about being a hunter/gatherer? Your grandfather was a hunter/gatherer. His grandfather before him. It's a noble profession. You get fed every day and a good cave over your head and there's nothing else anyone should need. But you, you want to go off across the big water? Assuming you don't sink like a rock and die, tell me... what else do you need? What else is out there for you and your friends?"
"...we don't know yet," Eegah admitted. "But we'll never know if we don't TRY to find out. I don't know where I'm going, but I want to see what I can see along the way! All my friends agree with me. There has to be something more than this!"
The wind twisted through the air, catching on the bearskin. Ahhaag was mildly surprised to see it almost catch that wind, and start to push itself away from the shore... the younglings frantically making last minute adjustments, before piling onto the craft.
"Maybe I'll be back some day, I don't know," Eegah said, slowly walking backwards into the surf. "But definitely not until I understand this. There's more to life than just being fed and having something over your head! I'll find my own way!"
He turned and ran, salty water splashing about his legs until he flopped onto the craft. It teetered dangerously, but was apparently built strong enough... Eegah took his place, manning the flow-steering log, as it drifted out to sea.
Ahhaag beat his chest to prove his status as the alpha male, but it did no good. "You'll be back before nightfall! You'll get scared and you'll come back! Kids today, you don't know a good thing when you have it! There's nothing out there!"
Another time, another place. Events chain together like the chaotic reaction that initially created this world, cleanly parallel while unpredictable. Farther away and thousands of years later...
Another island slid quietly by, to port. The ship rocked slightly, but the waves were actually quite normal, and nothing First Mate Christopher hadn't experienced before. He dipped his quill into the weighted inkpot and continued his writing, untroubled by the motion of the ocean.
First, he sketched out the rough shape of the island, making sure to align it to the grid he'd drawn out before they left port. He made note of the palm trees that seemed to grow abundantly on it with tiny cartoon representations, and then shifted his log book into his lap for the remainder of the notes.
Thirty seventh day in the North Sea, he wrote. I continue to behold the wonders of this area of the sea, this amazing series of islands previously unknown. It seems like it should have been so easy to find them, as ships pass near this region routinely, but leave it to our glorious captain to discover these new lands single handedly! My notes have been kept nice and accurate to ensure future settlements will have good guidelines, as these islands are bountiful and rich and extensive in resources. The island we landed at today had trees of such magnificent and wonderful and beautiful green, with large, round fruits of an unknown flavor. The captain has, in his infinite wisdom and intelligence and creativity, named this
Christopher tapped the quill on his pressed pulp page, curious. He twisted from his seat on the stairs, to look up at the main deck, at the imposing figure at the wheel...
"Captain! About the island we just left..." he called out. "For the historical record of future generations, what should it be designated?"
"Another Island," the gruff voice replied.
"Pardon?"
"Just call it Another Island, Mr. Christopher," the captain replied, locking the wheel for now, and having a seat on his stool, old bones aching. "I've never seen so many damn islands before. It figures that nobody would've bothered to find 'em, they're so out of the way from those bloody boring trade routes..."
"Ah... 'Another Island' it is, then, good Captain Archibald. And there are many wonders to see along the trade routes, sir!"
"Oh really? Name six of 'em."
"Well, there's... there..." Mr. Christopher started, searching his memory. "Ah... oh! What about the brilliantly jewel'd leaping dolphins of the Lyzeille Point!"
"Hah! Fished into extinction."
"Ah... the... the splendor of the floating port city of New Ralteague? An amazing wonder of engineering, sir, truly a herald of the modern age!"
"A tourist trap, and a gaudy one at that," Archibald replied. "Face it, lad, the tried and true is also the mundane and routine. If we hadn't deliberately turned a right when we should've turned a left--"
"A starboard turn, sir."
"Weren't headed up, were we? Get your head on straight, man. My point is if we didn't take jaunts like this, well, we'd jolly well be missing out. Exploration may not pay much in terms of money, but that's besides the point. Open your eyes, man! We're in uncharted waters! Don't you realize what we're doing out here?"
"Y-Yes, sir!" the first mate stammered. "You, the legendary explorer Archibald Typicos, have become the bookmark of history once more by being the first in these amazing new lands! You'll be famous, sir! A reward truly beyond gold, as you say!"
"...nope, you don't get the point at all. Mr. Christopher, look at those bloody nice-and-accurate notes of yours and tell me what the last few islands we've been to were thus named."
"Ah... umm...." he stalled, while flipping back in his log. "Well, in our adventures in the Archibald Typicos Island Chain, we previously visited 'This Island', and 'Flat Island' and 'Ordinary Island' before that, and then there was the quite exciting 'Tree Island' and 'Not Very Large At All Island'--"
"Precisely. I don't hold with namin' things," Captain Archibald explained, standing and stretching, bones popping. "Put a tag on something, you take away the whole bloody point of the thing. The experience of it gets boiled down into a neat little slogan. I'm not in the exploring thing for the money or the fame or the neatly drawn little maps. A shape on a map is nothing compared to... now what're you doin'?!"
Mr. Christopher paused. "I'm... ah... going to tearing up the map, good Sir Typicos? You just said--"
"Don't quote my own bloody ideology back at me, man!" Captain Archibald shouted. "And leave the map alone. It may be a starched pale shadow of what I'm goin' on about, but we'd be lost at sea without it! Don't be daft. If you lose sight of the practical in the middle of the theoretical you'll be up the river with no bleedin' paddle! See how many bright ideas you get when you're starvin' to death..."
"Yes sir!!"
"And quit callin' me sir!"
Mr. Christopher cracked open his log and got himself busy... it was no good talking to the captain when he was upset. But still, he had to admire the man. He couldn't quite understand the man but there had to be some sort of mad genius working behind those eyes, something that kept Archibald Typicos at the forefront of history despite his somewhat antisocial exterior. Something he would take part in, and revel in the glory thereof!
Tears welled up in Mr. Christopher's eyes... this was his dream, to travel the world with his hero, the legendary Archibald Typicos. It might take years, but he would learn to see the world as this great man did...
The great flapping of wings overhead distracted him. It wasn't much of a surprise, to look up and see the great form, and the shadow it cast over the ship. Quite unusual a sight this far north at sea, however, and he would have to make careful note of it in his notes.
"Look, sir! A Gold Dragon!" Mr. Christopher pointed out, hoping the majestic beast would cheer up the good captain.
"Eh? Wot?" Archibald asked, peering up. "Oh. One of them. Big bloody lizards..."
"They say there may be a war, you know," Mr. Christopher spoke, to make conversation. "Maybe in ten years or so, but there's some signs now. The Demon King of the North in the Kataart Mountains has been slowly spreading Mazoku across the northeast continent. It's a good thing we're at sea, eh?"
"Ehh," the captain replied, adjusting the course to take into account the shifting wind from the Dragon's wings.
"Knowing your legendary journeys, sir, no doubt they'll have stopped the demons before we even get back to the mainland!"
"Don't trust any bloody dragons," Archibald muttered. "Elves, either. Whole lot of the Ryuzoku. Don't think things ahead too much, like those bloody uncontrollable golden mechanical golems that knocked the cities they were protectin' flat... if they mean well or not, they're just as mistake-prone as we are. There's only three things a man should count on without fail in this world."
The first mate trembled, quickly flipping to a fresh page to copy down his captain's words of wisdom. "Y-yes, sir? What are those?"
Archibald counted off on his fingers. "All you've really got are the stars to guide you, your true comrades in arms to stay beside you, and the steady tick of time to lead you on your way."
"...that's... that's very moving, sir. It's so simple..."
"Bah. S'just common sense, that's all," Archibald said, looking out across the seas. "I'm no great thinker. Life isn't all that complicated when you've got it figured out. Another island up ahead, Mr. Christopher. No doubt you'll want it for your books. Myself, I could just use a good evening in the shade and a stout ale, as could the rest of the crew. Prepare to launch landing craft!"
Time goes by, as it tends to do. Days settled into years. Years into a decade. Hours into night.
Unblinking eyes looked downward and towards the dark horizon, as the shadows enclosed the island once and for all. In the moonlit air, only a brief hint of the shape's disappearance could be seen -- but it was enough. The expressionless face could be said to show relief, if it wasn't too composed and placid to register a reaction to this.
The figure perched on the highest peak of a small, mountainous island stretched out its wings, never blinking, simply signaling to the others with the intricate code of Golden Dragon body language to return. The task was complete, and there was no sense in staying.
The other Dragons winged their way back to the larger, Elder Dragon, found suitable perches, and began to debrief.
"It is done," one 'spoke', in the mild telepathy and body gestures of its kind. "The treasure is hidden. However... the map cannot be destroyed. It is of the same nature and is thus beyond our capabilities..."
"We were aware of that going into this," the elder Dragon pensed. "I will enact a plan to prevent Mazoku access... by limiting our access as well. The war is on the edge of the horizon, with the demon king rising, and the risk is simply too high for anything else. We shall entrust the humans."
"The humans?" a younger Dragon scoffed. "They are capable of many mistakes, Elder. Far weaker than we. I respect your decision, of course, but I for one would be far more comfortable with a secondary security measure as well... one tasked within our kind."
The Elder Dragon looked across these murky waters, thoughts unrolling in his head, projecting risks and damages, and contemplating this adjustment to the plan he had designed. All those thought processes trailed off to nowhere as he made his decision early, feeling comfortable in this judgement.
"It couldn't hurt," he decided. "After all, our kin are our kin. Forever shall we stand by them."
This was a mistake. A mistake, a mistake, a mistake.
She wanted a clean break. No questions, no outcry, just a quiet slip into the night. It felt like such an easy thing, to let go, let it all slide as she embarked on a new life... but it was hard to let go of family, no matter how much she wanted to. And so, the meeting.
The young woman sat nervously in the tavern booth, watching the old windup clock on the wall. Waiting for the hour they had agreed on and worrying...
(Of course, this took place thousands of years from Archibald's travels, and thousands of years from the second great Mazoku War that sealed the northeast continent from the world, but she was so far removed from those turbulent times they didn't even come into play in her worries.)
The door jingles jingled, as a small figure in a ratty cloak walked into the tavern. Most people ignored her, as she shuffled along, looking very much like a beggar... albeit a beggar with a purpose, as she hurried over to the booth and had a seat.
"Do you like the disguise?" the little girl asked, raising her hood just a little. "I snuck out after dark, just like you said! Nobody suspects a thing!"
"...you forgot to remove your tiara," she replied. "Pull your hood down more."
"Oopsie!"
Despite her tension... she had to laugh. Her little sister was always making silly mistakes like that. Fortunately, she had a caring father, and...
She quickly hardened herself, before speaking.
"I have to go," she said. "I'm sorry. I've got to leave, and my mind's already made up. I don't know if I'm coming back. You can't tell father, or anyone else; just pretend you didn't know I was running away from home..."
"It's okay, big sis," the girl spoke quietly. "I don't understand, but I'll do anything you want me to. I swear on mother's... you know. But promise me one thing?"
"Of course," she said, without thinking about it.
"Promise me... you'll never forget your sister?"
All the hardened walls she'd put up cracked. No matter how much she tried to distance herself... that was one thing she never would forget. Not sure when she started or how long it had lasted, she found herself hugging her dear little sister, and tearing up silently...
"...I'll never forget," she said. "Not in my heart of hearts. ...I can't stay. I have to go now. I'm sorry."
She was up, and out of the booth and out the door and running. As simple as that, as painfully difficult as that. If she had stayed any longer, she might have lost all her resolve to do this. Her feet hit the dirt road in a steady, quick pace, making the distance between herself and the small village on the outskirts of her home city farther and farther.
The need for change was rising in her, a quickness like a hunted animal. She needed something to distract from this, from the old life she was leaving, something to set her on her way towards her new life. She slowed to a stop, to lean against a tree, and catch her breath... looking at the dark and lonely forest around her. Very frightening to a young lady of her age, but she had to be fierce. Fearing nothing. Independent...
A snake slithered out from the hollow core of a nearby dead log. It was moon-bright white in color, quite rare in these lands. She studied it, oddly, as the new persona, the new idea grew...
Sooner or later, she was strolling down the road, laughing to herself and ready to follow her destiny as Naga the White Serpent.
Before there was a there, there was a nothing.
But after there was a there matters got considerably more complicated. Looking at select moments in the now-existent stream of time seems to produce a random string of events, taken out of context, with no rhyme or reason to them.
This is because time isn't meant to work in this fashion, shifting and jumping and mucking about. It was originally designed (if you can consider anything out of the sea of chaos a 'designed' thing) to flow in one direction. Yesterday precedes today, tomorrow comes later, and some people prefer to just live in the now so they don't have to be troubled by such things.
Take the case of a young girl on the cusp of her eighteenth birthday. She lives so hard and fast in the 'now' that she barely remembers the importance of that upcoming day, snoozing away in a traveler's inn, yet dreams of large meals and gold and infinite desires in the distant future are floating away in her head. She has true no concept of what lies before her, or these events past which will impact her life. She lives day to day, event to event, wherever the wind takes her.
In her brain, she has some very clear goals in life that she's been seeking through years of adventure. But in her heart, she'd have her life no other way than the way it is now.