Warning: OCs, language, mentions child molestation/pedophilia, violence, switch of POV from previous chapters

Devoured

Chapter 5

The first piece of advice I remember my mother giving to me was when I was four years-old. I recall that most humans have vague (if any) memories of their early childhoods, but we Saiyans, are, of course, different. I suppose that because my younger years were so wild and atypical, many bits and pieces stick out in my mind, like shards of glass upon a sunlit floor. Also, this is my first true recollection of my mother before her “descent,” as we termed it, but even then, she was always not what one would label a normal mother. Actually, she was not even a normal person, and her idiosyncrasies were reflected upon us in the most sedate of situations.

My family was whole then; my father did not die until I was five, when he was murdered. (But that is another story, and I save it for later.) Born before me was my brother, Rajien Soku; he was given that definitively Desert name in order to honor the treaty between my grandparents. “The first son is a child of the Desert, one of strength and agility, like sand in the wind, as boisterous and violent as a tornado.” Reportedly, my maternal grandfather had this specifically written in the treaty; although I cannot attribute the man with anything else, he could predict personalities quite well.

I was born two years later, and, as dictated by that same treaty, I was to be named after my father, who was named after his father, and so on and so forth. This had been a royal City tradition since the planet Vegeta was raided many eons ago, and my paternal grandfather would not let two of his grandchildren to be named in accordance with heathens (or so he said, according to my mother). With me, we were a family of four, with a consummated marriage producing two perfect male heirs.

One would think that situation would be sublime for a monarchial society like the Saiyans’, where war was a commodity and the rise and fall of nations, planets, and galaxies was ruled by our blood-stained hand. Yet, we were undeniably flawed in all aspects, something I indecently regret and hold against my mother, but also a fact that leads me to some smidgeon of self-understanding, if that counts for anything. For all my years of living, I have never had the time to look within myself; I allowed others to do it for me, yet most of their conclusions were wrong. I am at some middle path now, a gray area that calls for such illuminationÖor, it may be true that I just have nothing better to do. I will not say my fighting days are over, but this world is safe. Safety is something I have never comprehended, for I barely lived with it. It was a dream, a helpless hope held beyond my reach, and I yearned for and shunned it. As recorded in history, royal families are never entirely secure. The same can be said for mine, tenfold.

Even as a young thing, I had a mind of my own, a fierce independent streak that delighted my father and irritated my mother. This personality trait was at times frighteningly dominant, and later became disturbed and warped. Yet, as a four year-old, I understood how to manipulate people’s opinions of me, for they thought me stupid, or at least as an ignorant (or maybe imbecilic) infant. I proved them wrong, albeit privately. Only my mother, and later Rajien, knew of my methods, and both watched as they evolved.

And so, with this self-assured brain, I prowled about the palace grounds, finding information, exploring, stealthily attacking guards and other worker-folk at random, basically being a little hellion. At this time, I had no “nanny” or body-guard; Nappa was still in the military and happily participating. Many people found me annoying, to say the least, but I prided myself on my abilities, and although my parents were a bit perturbed by all the complaints, both seemed to quietly, covertly foster this self-confidence. This prodding came especially from my mother, who would admonish me for my behavior in front of my victim, and then pat me on the head as he or she (or they, for that matter) left. She was an odd woman, I tell you.

I peer back at a particular incident now and realize how it pervaded my thinking for life. This certain instance was an accident, just me acting in my usual impish way, listening in on others’ conversations. (I was one for political intrigue even in those days.) I remember it now and find myself frowning, for it seemed so inconsequential, so painfully glossed over and forgotten, yet it shaped almost everything. I was just a child, but I was malleable, like all young ones are.

In the darkness of one of the halls I hid. I imagine myself grinning like a cat approaching a blind mouse, just ready to pounce and play with my feast. The night enveloped and cloaked the halls, blotting out all specific shapes and colors. Everything was a shade of gray or black, for sometimes light shined in from one of the many rooms. I could not sleep that night, since my father was busy and could not tend to me; in retribution, I left my room in a fuss, and had fun with the drowsy inhabitants of that huge place. Barely any of the lobbies, bedrooms, or wide spaces was lit up, but I had happened upon one, and there were voices, recognizable voices. I was pleased.

I pressed myself against the wall and tip-toed to the edge of the door. A rectangular block of light illuminated one section of the corridor, and with keen precision, I crouched down right outside of the block’s edge and turned my head ever so slightly so that I could see. My sweaty palms felt cold against the wall as I balanced there, as if I stood on a tight-rope over fire.

It was a conference room, the walls lined with various machines, the middle space dominated by a long wood table in the shape of the light I teetered over. Black cushions hovered noiselessly in the air around the table. On the back wall was a huge hologram screen projecting a map; planets spun in lazy circles and a sun blazed blue in the mechanical glow. In front of the wall stood my mother and the general of the Saiyan Army, Jenoch Saaski. My mother was in her usual stance: hands clasped behind her back, her whole body erect and straight like a soldier’s. As for Saaski, he was his usual brooding self, wearing his long navy blue cloak that covered his tattered general’s armor. He appeared tense, his face contorted by anxiety and frustration. This was his typical expression, but the eerie light of the hologram and clicking machines caused him to seem even more stressed. Mother was perfectly calm, almost smiling but not quite; such a face signaled her arrogance in full gear.

Saaski bowed his head slightly, his black hair (choppily cut and ending a bit above his shoulders) masking his eyes somewhat. I still noticed the way he glared at my mother with such intensity, and how serene she was, basking in the glow of his disdain. She leaned in, balancing on one foot and staring up at him, and grinned fully, incisors glistening strangely in the light. Unlike my father, she had much sharper teeth, like a beast. I smiled too, feeling my eyes widen in wonder.

“Your Highness, I do not know if you understand the full ramifications for such behaviorÖ” Saaski said, his voice somewhat gravelly and low, which contrasted with his slim frame. In reality, I learned later, he was quite the built man, but had his clothes tailored so that they distorted his size. He always seemed disproportionate, producing an uneasy, subtle fear in onlookers.

My mother cut him off, narrowing her eyes, “Oh dear General, what ‘ramifications’ could there be for a queen? I have single-handedly pulled this city up out of the gutter it stewed in for so long; under my rule, we have conquered more territory than the past three kings combined! Do not tell me that some of my father’s indoctrinations have perverted your thinking about women, correct?”

Saaski sighed, clearly exasperated. I had changed positions now, squatting down against the wall and turning my body half-way. My fingers held the edge of the door so tightly that my knuckles were white.

“None of your father’s ‘teachings’ did anything of that sort, Melgentra. They advised me of the opposite, but you are already somewhat out of favor due to your previous actions, and the ambassadors of the other planets in this galaxy do not want war. We have too many soldiers stationed on further locations for us to start a full-scale attack. We should justÖnegotiate.”

“My previous actions? And what would those be?” She was taunting Saaski, like a mean-spirited child.

“Goddamit, Melgentra! You know what I mean! I thought you said we wouldn’t speak of it again?” He leaned back away from her, his shoulders back.

“I did, didn’t I? Well, I’ve lifted the rule now.” She stepped forward, again invading his personal space. He took a step forward as well, challenging her, staring down at her diminutive form.

“That’s the problem with you, Mel. You change your mind too much.”

Her smile evolved into a smirk. “Not too much, just when satisfactory. But you know, you definitely know, Saaski, that what I did was necessary for not only my survival but yours. You would not be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“I understand that,” he replied gravely, glancing away.

She kept her gaze on his face, and spoke in a whisper laced with malice, “He needed to die, Saaski. His extermination was the final stepping stone. And for what he did to you, my protégé, for he was a sick man.”

“That is known.” He looked back at her, and she stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I made it known. Everyone turned a blind eye to it,” she gesticulated angrily, “and I made it known! He was not just sick, but depraved! You find another lover, and he killed him in front of you, and left you in a cell with that rotting corpse to die. I do not care what the politicians and managers and all those other shit-eaters say about my image; they are soft, unfit for duty to their planet, unlike you. They sit and plan away their lives, growing fat and ugly, while you remain strong and commanding. You are a general because you are talented beyond belief, and he was wasting that on deviancy. Purely sexual deviancy.” She made a sound of utter disgust.

Saaski yanked his head up violently, his eyes lit up like fresh matches. “Mel, I know that! I know everything! I was in the cell, remember? I was his, a piece of property, remember?” He was nearly yelling.

She remained silent, her arms crossed over her chest again, smirking indignantly.

His voice shrunk to a hoarse whisper, “You—you bother me.”

“Nothing to be irked about, Saaski. You are a complicated creature, yet I crack you like a brittle egg. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, since I have known you since you were a child, since we were children, and I understand the enigmatic maze that is your mind,” she moved forward and placed her pointer finger square in the middle of his forehead, “but you should keep that in mind. I, a Desert savage, of a tribe long discarded by the City dwellers, rose from the ashes of my little town and took control. Vegeta can do nothing; he is incompetent and knows so. The same treaty that brought my father recognition and praise also destroyed him; our marriage was his downfall. But you are aware of this.”

He did not move nor spoke; he only stared, breathing heavily. She tilted her head to the side slightly.

“You are an ally, but you can easily become a hindrance. Remember this, and you won’t get in my way.” She pulled her finger back and turned on her heel, walking away from him. She lifted her head to the right and stared with those magnificent, malicious eyes of hers at the holographic map floating around her. Reaching forward, she encapsulated a small blue planet with her hand. It stopped there, spinning in her palm. She glanced back at him.

“I will own this land, Saaski. I will have it all.”

He nodded.

She smirked. “And so will you, glorious General! And so will all of the Saiyan race. Never forget this.”

A grand smile, maniacal and lop-sided, took over my face. The sides of my mouth were pulled up so far that it most likely appeared unnatural and terrifying; I was a monster child. My full head was sticking out in the block of light, casting an edgy shadow against the wall. My mother turned her head, and there she was, staring at me, our faces matching, besides that my enthusiasm bubbled over onto my expression, and hers stayed within her fiery black eyes. Her pale skin was luminescent, her short black hair cast was with blue, her angular features were highlighted in the light; she looked so beautifully menacing. She was a demon, but I loved her.

Saaski remained in the background, disappearing in my memory, as my mother walked towards me, as if floating. She stood in front of me, smiling confidently, and lowered herself to my level. Taking my face in her hands, she looked straight into my eyes. Her hands were freezing.

“My dear child, what are you doing up at this hour?” she asked, pressing her hands lightly against my cheeks.

“We will be a marvelous empire, Mother!” I shouted, squeaking.

She smiled warmly, one of the few instances where she did so. “That is true, Vegeta. That is very true.”

I interjected, “Everyone will envy us, Mother! Everyone will want to be us, and everyone will fear us! We’ll be part of history! We will be history!” I was in ecstasy beyond my feeble child’s comprehension.

Her face came closer to mine, and she placed her forehead against mine. Her voice was lower, softer. “Vegeta, you are so young, but you are too small to understand the ‘bad’ in people, those ‘ramifications’ and consequencesÖand evil. But if you learn anything from me, learn this: when labeled as the lesser evil, insure you do not corrupt yourself to an extreme of greater, or greatest evil. Did you hear me?”

I nodded, gazing at her lovingly.

“Do not corrupt yourself. Do not become the greatest evil. Ever.”

I did not know then how telling her message would be.