FicWad

The relentless sun beats down furiously upon the ceremonial travelers trekking across the wasteland, and, to his frustration, the young suitor is the only one breaking a sweat in the scorching heat. Guessing he should be thankful, as he does not have to wear loads of ritual threads in the merciless, barren environment (which could have been the case), he straightens his posture from his anguished, moping position as the troupe continues. Of course, the face that he is completely nude and exposed to the thrashings of the planet's star does not really set put him in the greatest mood. The burning sands beneath his feet, worse than the ones in the camp both in temperature and texture, the harsh, mocking wind whipping in his face, and the dry, abrasive air irritating his throat and lungs, causing him to hack and cough frequently, only add to his discomfort. Now he just prays that they will hurry up and arrive at the pit so his brain has something interesting to concentrate on before it sizzles away into a crispy, charcoal mash that only understands lustful commands by a Klax princess.

Well, that fate would not be too bad...

With a yawn of boredom, the orange Ginyu scans the area and horizon for the innumerable-time: mounds of dry dirt, more piles of dry dirt, different arrangement of hills of dry dirt, two odd black obelisks, one big heap of dry dirt...

Black obelisks!

Reacting on instincts, Jeice bursts forward, not taking the time to tell the others what he sees, let alone what he is doing. As he leaves the startled and confused assembly behind him, their shouts in many tongues he cannot understand, though even the Universal is rapidly being drowned out by his focused mind. All that is going through his head is the need to be at the trial area, prove his worth to Raynor and the others for Kerrigan, and finally be in the young female's tender grasp without wasting any time that can be spent together. Nothing more, and nothing less, spins through his stream of thought, leaving him to the desert's own tricks (although the sun may have already gotten to him).

Kerrigan. Her name rings sweetly through him as he closes his eyes to view her perfect image, the Saiyan goddess that will hold him close in her gentle span, the one he will throw himself down to her feet, if he prevails in the tasks that lay ahead of him. He imagines the luscious strawberry taste of her lips, the calming touch of her tanned skin, the daring curves of her strong, fruitful body, and the invigorating spark of her enchanting jade eyes. All of the female fills his mind, blocking everything else out. From a simple spurt to a rapid jet he flies, ever nearing to the one he longs, no, aches for, his heart bleeds for, the only being that gives him pleasure, meaning to his existence in either dimension. Desperately, he reaches out to the figure before him, his fingers grasping the air just in front of his Amazon.

"Jeice," murmurs her melodic voice, so much like a chorus of oasis song birds, "Jeice..."

"Jeice, watch out for that-!"

SMACK!

Too late.

"Pillar..." sighs Raynor a few seconds after his could-be son-in-law runs straight into one of the towering ebony structures and falls flat on his back. Shaking his head, the chief and the others quickly rush to his side, the second tribal leader gently lifting his head and wiping off the gore from his nose and mouth delicately.

"A'right?" the aged Saiyan brave asks, concern smothered over his face.

"I'm," Jeice coughs in a daze, a clot of blood being expelled onto his chin, "bonza. W-Who are you?"

"Dat ist right," chuckles Kerrigan's father. "Yue hav' not given 'im yuer name yet."

"Jak," the elder answers, helping the youth to his feet, "of te' Zurous."

"Right," replies the wobbling figure, unsure of himself. "Now, where's th' trial so I can get m' better half?"

A dense pause hangs in the atmosphere as everyone gives him a blank, quizzical stare, causing his new tail to unconsciously twitch with annoyance. He really needs to learn his love's language and its slang...

"WHERE IS THE PIT OF HELL IN WHICH I MUST PROVE MYSELF FOR KERRIGAN!" he yells with rage, breaking the flat silence in the calm wasteland. A collective breath is held, the other males wide-eyed in shock at his out-burst. The Suitor's shoulders shift with tension and his fist tighten in anger.

"Yer arse is oot the windae," blurts an adolescent in black markings beside Jak. A cocky old grin spreads across the Zurousian Chief's face, and he nods his head in agreement.

"Aye," he chuckles, "'ees radge, jus' like us."

A few more join in the leader's laughter, all wearing onyx designs upon burnt orange skin. Jeice smacks his foreheads as he finally realizes that other Saiyans had joined the traveling band, obviously from his adopted tribe. Soon, the stress of the moment dissipates, and the group refocuses on the matter at hand.

"Well, I hope yue enjoyed dat little flight of yuer's, boy," begins Raynor after placing a hand on the alien fighter's shoulder, "as yue won't be doin' it again fur a vhile."

"Why?" he asks with confusion.

"Dhose black spires prevent beings from using increases in...'ki', I dhink yue call it."

"Pig's arse! You're comin' to the raw prawn!" he exclaims in disbelief before catching his cultural slip-up, and quickly back-tracks. "I mean, that can't be right!"

"Den vhy didn't deh dhing break vhen yue ran into it?" poses the elder with a wry smile.

The fact hits the young male like lightning- his forward movement had been completely canceled out once he hit the obelisk. Not only that, his trained subconscious had not even picked up on it being there; normally, even with his brain in another dimension, he would have unconsciously moved around it. As these thoughts pass through his mind, his jaw steadily drops, dumbstruck.

"Who... who made these?"

"M'ancestors," casually replies Jak, a hint of pride rolling off his tongue.

"What are they made out of?" His head, along with the rest of the group's, turns to look upon the aged leader.

The chief shrugs his shoulders and answers, "Do I look like ae shaman?"

The fresh tangerine head hangs itself over his shoulders in dubiety, wondering how he is ever going to survive with beings such as these for family. He sighs and straightens himself back up, fixing his eyes on the other ruler. Nodding his head, the Klaxman pushes him gently around the dark marble structure. The his eyes widen and his mouth hangs agape instantly as he stares just beyond the curve of the desert into the gaping trench below into a wild and furious blaze that rivals that of a red-giant sun, while menacing ash clouds hover dangerously over deep into the inferno, rolling against each other to form their own rainless lightning storm. Eerily, the electric discharge overhead makes no sound, sending shivers down his spine and through his tail. His shocked manner swiftly dissolves into annoyance, though, as a few matters sink in: first, he cannot use his ki to get through the damned abyss; second, a nagging feeling tells him there's something more than fire in there. Great, just great- he must deal with this (and more) in his birthday suit.

He certainly cannot complain about being bored now.

"So, boy," begins Raynor, "vill you back down?"

Slowly, the foreign warrior turns his head to the chief, a cocky smiles spreading across his lips. Sure, he knew this and a thousand more customs like it would be equally alien to him, but he, himself, is most likely the first male to ever slip his tongue between his daughter's soft petal lips, and probably the last if he completes all of the tasks he is given (or Raynor finds out and kills him). Either way, the suitor knows a bit more about the princess than her father would care to, or have anyone else be familiar with; to give up now after all this would be totally unlike him.

"For Kerri," he replies, facing the raging fire again. "What do you think this is, bush week? No way am I going to fluke out now and let vultures put me on their barbie. I told 'er things will be apples, and I won't go back on m' word. Besides, you only live once!"

Before can ask him to clarify his little speech, he strides boldly forward, down the natural ramp, and toward the rampant blaze. Declaring his love for Saiyan female and simultaneously leaving the elders baffled with his own native slang floods him with satisfaction, his smile becoming even smugger as he walks into the fire; seeming incensed by the arrogant Ginyu, the fire quickly kills the bearable heat and his superiority over the wild inferno. Beads of sweat blanket his entire body, and his steady breathing changes into a broken pant, but the smile remains- his confidence has transformed into courage, making backing down not an option. As a wall of flames flares up before him, he pauses, closing his eyes to clam his mind and block out his red oppressor. The fire impatiently lashes out at him, but cannot reach any part of him, physically or mentally, as he trails off into the deepest pools of thought: Kerrigan, my dearest angel, I will do and be anything you ask of me. Though by others' standards, we hardly know each other, m' heart years to see your smiling face. Now I stand 'ere before a pit of devouring element that rivals that of the Underworld's, bent on destroying me and all else that dares to walk through it, but can only dream of being compared to your fiery eyes, and I will use all of my might to cross this and any other agony to be at your side.

With that, he raises a shaking hand cautiously and pushes it toward the blaze, which greedily thrashes out to grab it and force him to think twice about entering its depths. A searing heat greedily licks around his lower arm, burning off the remaining, barely visible hair that covers his flesh. He commands himself to stay there, remembering everything and everyone that is relying on him and the outcome of this pairing with the princess. Then, nothing; all of the stinging pain flees, leaving behind a dense, but weightless, warm liquid-like gas wrapping his limb. At this time he looks straight into the inferno, staring down his adversary, and steps forward. Again, the fire whips and smarts his skin for a few minutes, then disappears, a purified, somewhat unworldly sensation coats his entirety and sinks into his soul. Breathing a sigh of relief that he did not combust, he strides fearlessly through the pit, ever constant of his purpose and his surroundings, least a mere slip incinerate him.

Hours pass, and he begins to think that, in truth, walking on the white coals under the blackened sky is not that bad; out in the desert, the blazing light of the home star would have likely burned him just as well. Jeice raises his left arm a bit, first with his palm up, then turns it over. Normally, without being able to use ki, his skin should burn damage at this point, even with his conditioning. He begins to question the mechanics of it all, but stops and shakes his head- he had to a find a shaman to answer that. Seems a shaman is always needed for such inquiries. Sighing, he wonders how a certain female is doing...

What is Kerrigan up to right now? Is she going through any trials such as him? Is she even thinking of him? Though she had brought him here, as well as shown him signs of affection, she had not done anything definitive. The Saiyan assassin, he remembers, acted very unstable about the subject; she persisted about the trails and pain they might inflict. Did she... did she not have any confidence in him to succeed?

He jerks his head, the doubt throwing him off and letting pain slip in. Attempting to focus once more is futile, as more uncertainties plague his mind, and the leaping flames around him grow. A splitting headache spreads through him as he continually rethinks matters over and over again, weakness simultaneously seeping through his bones. He kneels down, breathing hard. The pain begins to slip under his skin and into his muscles, and understanding strikes him: the fire is feeding off his uncertainties. This trial is not about physical resilience, but mental stamina. No wonder passing through this is a greater feat than crossing any number of deserts (for at least then you can keep your thoughts to yourself); here, the fire reaches down into your very heart and brings your fears to the forefront of your mind. All the ease from the past flees him, the burden of everything slamming against his shoulders and knocking him to the ground. Desperately, he starts to slow his inhales and exhales, trying to keep himself calm. Hesitations must be put away, if he wishes to make it through. He must be strong- this is why he is here, to prove himself!

A mocking laugh drifts through the flames, scorning him to make any attempts at surviving any longer. The warrior pushes it back, putting all of his willpower into seeing his love, the one he is working for. He will not let anything more stand between him and his mate, no matter who is tormenting him now; all he must do is rise and leave.

"Poor dhing," muses a sweet voice dripping with venom. Jeice catches a slithering movement out of the corner of his eye and lifts his gaze; a hazy shadow shifts through the billowing yellows, oranges, and reds. The feminine vocals coo, "Jus' stay down, I vill come to yue..."

The reptilian enunciations put him on edge, but curiosity wins over the male, and he stays in his low position. Gradually, the silhouette comes forth from the flames, solidifying into a gruesome form.

"And so I claim another husband," delightfully hisses a half-humanoid, half-serpent female she materializes before him. Blazing ruby eyes greedily study his figure, and a clawed hand fiercely grips his shoulder. "It is been so long..."

"It will be even longer, then," Jeice replies, knocking away her paw, looking up and giving her a bitter smirk. "I've already been called for."

The demon shifts back, growling angrily, "How dare yue!"

A quick roll saves the warrior from a blow of the naga's black tail, and he is now on his feet, ready for more. The creature coils back, glaring hatefully at him.

"So, you dhink yue've found deh love of yuer life," she bites, brushing back her singed onyx hair. "Pathetic."

"Yeah, an' what would you know?" he smugly retorts.

"Do yue really believe dat yue, an alien- yes, I can smell yuer unworldly stench-, hav' a chance?" she inquires, and then laughs, "Yue are a sad case. Deh female yue pursue das not care fur yue. How could she? All yue hav' dat is remotely Saiyan is dat fake tail!"

The young male grits his teeth uneasily, the doubt returning. Could he really fulfill the princess's wants and needs in a partner? All he knows is how to fight; how could he provide for her? His palms cusp his face, pain pounding through his frontal lobes and eye sockets. He must snap-out of this.

"I don't know," he answers as his hands return to his sides. "I don't know a lot of things. However," he raises his determined auburn eyes to stare straight into the monster's gaze, "I know I care about her, an' I'm not going to give up, especially to the likes of you."

"Why yue!"

Without warning, a blast of fire billows toward him, alive with hatred and intent to make him pay for his words. Closing his eyes, he lets the attack hit him head-on; a moment later, he feels nothing, excluding the beautiful, cleansing sensation. Opening his chocolate pools, he stares straight ahead into the fire. The naga is no where to be seen. Deep within him, he can sense that the end is close by.

"Well, g'bye," mutters the orange combatant with a shrug and half-hearted wave, and turns around and strides onward. Soon, he distinguishes the finish through the blaze, and lowers his head as he sprints through the flames to the darkened earth outside.

"Jeice!" shouts Raynor, racing down the dirt slope to the young man, Jak at his heals, worry covering both their faces.

"Hey," the stunted Ginyu answers weakly with a proud smile before falling to the ground. As the others gather him up and attempt to interrogate him, darkness closes over him, giving him well-deserved rest from this reality in the form of simple, sweet unconsciousness.