Trouble In Paradise - Open To One

Tambo had gone for a delivery, passing through the region carrying a sculpted slab of marble. On it were carvings of words and symbols of Namekian culture, mostly worshipping Porunga and retelling tales of the past. It was meant for a Dragon Clan temple training child in the ways of their divinity. These carvings in the stone were filled with a magic-enhanced metal, the symbols softly glowing as the words were spoken out loud. As with most deliveries, Tambo had to walk from his forge in the Northern Scar all the way to the Ajisa continent. Such pilgrimage was an integral part of the process, allowing a stronger bond between him and his craft as well as allowing him to show his faith through the physical strain.

As the Namekian walked, he arrived near the Fluud waterfall, noticing dinosaurs carcasses and trails of purple blood on the ground. Fearing someone might be in danger, he picked up the pace, all the way to the village behind the waterfall.

Upon arriving, he watched his people tending to the bleeding child. Instinctively, he dropped the carvings he was carrying, kneeling in front of the small one. He softly placed his hand on the kid’s chest and within a second, a golden cocoon enveloped him, healing his wounds away. After watching him for a minute or so, Tambo rose back to his feet and addressed the people present.

“The boy will recover; his life is not in danger.”

As he took some time to watch the people around, he noticed a pale humanoid figure, clearly not one of them. Though small in stature, apparently, he was the one responsible for saving the child in the first place.

“Thank you, kind stranger, for aiding our people. You have our gratitude. May I ask what your name is?”

Tambo closed his eyes as he tried to interpret as best as he could the information given to him with what little knowledge of the situation he had. War had never run through his veins, its intricacies completely eluded him, but he sensed some indecision in the man’s words. Was it truly his wish to stop the war? What did he seek, exactly?

“You seem troubled, friend. Although I sense a genuine wish to resolve things, I feel you are conflicted. What is it do you wish to gain? Do you seek peace for everyone? Do you seek to lead one people or the other? Was it the idea of those children dying that prompted you to act? Or your friend’s death? Whatever the case maybe, and I am sure you are already aware of this, but peace comes at a cost. I can draw parallels with our own situation here. Though I cannot give an answer, I can surely ask the question: what is right?”

This question was as much for him as for Yangcong. Perhaps he did not have the luxury of thinking about it at length; neither did Tambo. But above all, it was necessary to make the wisest choice possible.

“The Saiyans must’ve fled their planet for a reason. Sending them back to it will only spell their doom or another civilization. Maybe ours. Perhaps some of my brothers would join you in that effort. They, too, know the meaning of defending their home. Though I fear the enemy they have made is simply one they refuse to listen to and understand. Can a resolution be achieved through negotiations?”

Tambo stood up, his height towering over Yangcong’s. The mystic feared he had not much more to say than this:

“You tread a treacherous path, traveler. Never forget you are only one man. A burden too heavy will simply make you crumble under its weight. But above all, no matter what you end up doing, never forget yourself in the process. Your values, your ideals. Or else you might end up swallowed in your quest for justice. I am no fighter, but I’ve seen many brothers fall to their unending thirst for power and for knowledge, forgetting who they were in the process.”

The Namekian’s eyes began glowing a golden color as he placed his hand on the man’s head. Golden energy began shifting from Tambo to Yangcong, soothing him of any pain he might’ve suffered, perhaps even old wounds.

“What I said to you still stands true. I may not leave this planet or engage in combat, but if you should bring your wounded to me, as a token of my gratitude I shall help them as best as I can.”

As the swirl of energies reverted the old Tuffle to a state where the weariness of time and war hadn’t yet affected his body, Tambo assumed they were even, in a sense. In a way, the value of a life saved exceeded all that he could offer in return, but perhaps allowing the man to find some level of comfort back into his body along with the promise of helping those in need in that war of his could make up for it. After all, he was only one man, with not too much to give in return.

He smiled as Yangcong fell prey to stupefaction, allowing himself to discover this new feeling of comfort and well-being in his own body. Such a feeling that always felt strange, especially after years of living with the pain, to the point of being unable to notice it anymore. Such was the boon the Namekian had given Yangcong and he wished it would prove useful for his travels.

“I wish you safe travels, then. May you find what you seek in this world. I pray that you will be able to put an end to this war with the least number of casualties possible. Until we meet again, stranger.”

He would watch in silence as the short man disappeared from sight. What impressions had he left upon him? He couldn’t say, exactly. Perhaps he wasn’t able to understand what drove him to such lengths. War and violence was something he was better off living without, but as an omen of what’s to come, he kept the horror of the words spoken somewhere in his mind. The destruction, the chaos to ensue, the orphans, the scent of death looming above them all.

And just what could he do to avoid this fate upon his people? He looked behind him, at the child he had just healed. The folks standing guard around him, talking and laughing, living their lives to the fullest. As he closed his eyes, he envisioned the same scenery, but with their bodies dispersed on the ground, the scent of smoke and fire as the sky was painted dark orange, buildings tumbling in on themselves. The Dragonsmith felt shivers down his spine and he quickly opened his eyes, reassuring himself with the familiar sight of peace and quiet. And over what such a vision of doom and dismay might happen? Words and prejudices, leading into an ever-growing pit, until only one would stand.

‘Merciful Porunga, I fear we may be headed towards the precipice faster than we thought. Grant me your wisdom, how can we avoid the same fate as the Tuffles and the Saiyans?’ he thought, finishing his inner monologue with a sight.

For the rest of the day, he stood with his fellow brothers, recounting tales and sharing the words of Porunga with the young ones, indulging in a bit of peace and quiet.