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almondinflowerThe Skylord, Part 2 of ?
Summary: At the outset of his journey, Yamamoto meets a couple of visitors.
Wordcount 1500
Notes: Previously known as Sword-rain. I, uh, changed the title of this fic halfway through. YET MORE REBORN PHAIL FROM ME. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashesto for saving me from drowning in typo-hell!
Part 1 here.
Yamamoto followed the road for several hours before stopping for lunch. He unwrapped his sushi rolls and estimated that he had enough for now and tonight; and maybe tomorrow's breakfast if he ate sparingly. There was little point in keeping sushi overnight though, so Yamamoto ate as much as he liked, which didn't leave much for dinner. His father had only given him enough money to buy food for seven days, so hopefully the Cavallone would grant him hospitality when he arrived. Ah well. He'd deal with it when the time came. He finished his meal, stood and stretched, and continued on his way.
The sun was very bright now, and the air was dry. When he left Namimori this morning, it'd been cloudy. Yamamoto remembered fishermen complaining about the unpredictable weather these last few months. There had been windless mornings turning to gales by noontime, and days of simultaneous sunshine and rainstorm; it had even snowed one evening in the middle of summer. It was all very unusual for Namimori – even though there was at least one place on Vongola lands, the city of the Varia, where erratic weather was known to be the norm.
Fortunately today it remained sunny until nightfall, which was when Yamamoto found himself in a rapidly darkening forest with no shelter anywhere in sight. He found a small grove close to the main road, that seemed like a good compromise between being attacked by bandits and being attacked by wild animals, and after gathering some fallen wood managed to start a fire using his flint. He was about to unpack his sushi for dinner, when he heard a rustling noise coming from the foliage behind him.
Something exploded at his feet.
When he leaped back, a series of bright fizzing objects came flying out of the undergrowth. They seemed to be aimed at his face. Yamamoto did what seemed like the most sensible thing to do: he dodged.
He avoided all of them quite easily. Two of the explosives shot past him when he ducked and went straight into the fire, making it whoosh up suddenly in a flare of blue and bright purple. The rest landed on the ground and blew up.
For several minutes the area shook with explosions, Yamamoto's vision was completely clouded by smoke and multicoloured flame. He blinked, and when the air cleared he saw a boy who looked the same age as him standing in front of him.
The boy was silver-haired and scowling. He held ten glowing sticks of various colours in his hands, and five smaller sticks with red-hot ends clenched in between his teeth. “Spying bastard,” he snarled. “Who are you working for?”
“Erm,” said Yamamoto, scratching his head. “I think we might have a misunderstanding here.”
The other boy wasn't listening. He used the smaller sticks in his mouth to light the larger sticks in his hands, and was about to throw the latter at Yamamoto, when a bird flying overhead decided to defecate on his head.
The sudden splat on his hair made him start, dropping all the sticks he was carrying (both larger and smaller ones). They fell scattered at their feet, and began to spark ominously.
Yamamoto dove to the ground. He grabbed a fistful of the sticks and hurtled them upwards, into the distance. They flew above the tree tops and erupted, sending out a shower of brightness against the night sky.
The remaining sticks he hadn't manage to grab went off, and they scrambled out of the explosions' way. When it had all subsided they found themselves staring at each other. The silver-haired boy was having a coughing fit.
Yamamoto brought out his handkerchief and started to fan away the smoke. It didn’t help much. “Are you all right?” he asked. “That was a pretty impressive show you put on there.”
The boy frowned, as if he was trying very hard to understand something. “You weren't following me.”
“Well, er, no!” Yamamoto shrugged. “But hey, that's fine. Nobody got hurt, right? Well, it looks like most of the trees have been burnt to crisps, but they’re not really people, so that’s still all right.”
Right on cue a pine tree creaked, shuddered, and toppled over, its impact making the earth shudder.
Yamamoto decided to forge ahead with the conversation. “I’m Yamamoto Takeshi. What's your name?”
It was too hard to tell in the dark – the only source of light was Yamamoto's fire, which was burning well, although it had turned bright green and was twice the size it had been before – but he thought he could see the other boy flushing red with embarassment. He snapped out his reply: “You can call me Gokudera.”
“Gokudera, huh? Sounds like a Namimori name.” He was about to invite the other boy to have some sushi, but Gokudera had already turned and begun to stalk (stomp, really) away. He disappeared into the darkness; Yamamoto was left staring after him bemusedly until his stomach growled to remind him that it was dinnertime. He found a relatively unburnt patch of grass on which to sit, finished off his sushi – the last he would eat for several weeks – and then rolled into a comfortable position and went to sleep.
#
Daylight saw him with stiff sore limbs and soot-covered clothing. He dusted himself off, packed up his belongings and left the charred, blackened grove (or what used to be a grove, since there were scarcely any trees left worthy of the name). From here on the path wound uphill between two mountains, and then into a wide valley filled with fruit orchards. The apples had ripened, and Yamamoto picked several to eat. He munched on one as he walked, putting the rest away.
He'd nearly reached the end of the valley, when he spotted what he thought at first was a baby cow, running around a small paddock; soon after he saw that it was far too small and the wrong shape to be a cow. On closer examination it proved to be a human child, with black bushy hair and a one-piece suit that looked like cow's skin. It leaped up as Yamamoto approached, and pointed a fat metal wand at its nose.
“I'm the thunder wizard Lambo!” it declared, and made a funny blowing noise with his nose. “Prepare to die!”
Much to Yamamoto's surprise, streams of lightning came spurting from the wand, and for the second time in two days he was obliged to practise his dodging skills.
Lambo seemed to get frustrated when its lightning bolts didn't hit Yamamoto. After about five tries and a lot of scorched grass, it sat down and started to cry.
“Would you like something to eat?” tried Yamamoto, feeling awkward.
It used one hand to wipe snot from its nose and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Do you have any grapes?” it demanded.
“No. But I have some apples, if you'd like some.” He pulled an apple out of his pack and offered it to him. Lambo sniffed at it before biting off a chunk and chewing.
“Where is your family?” Yamamoto asked. “Your parents must be wondering where you are, huh.”
Lambo folded its arms across its chest. “I am from the Bovino family! Lord Bovino has given me a quest to defeat the the Ultra Super Powerful Wizard Reborn,” it said proudly.
“Defeat an ultra-powerful wizard? That sounds like a great goal. Where does this wizard live?”
Lambo looked flummoxed. Finally it said: “I don't know.”
“Sounds like your first task should be to hunt down the wizard's lair, then. Do you have any ideas where to look?”
It brightened. “I know where! The Skylord Castle! In Vongola City! That's where Reborn is hiding.”
“Ahahahaha, in the Vongola Prince's castle? That's a great thought. Seems like you've planned your quest well,” said Yamamoto. “Well, much better than I've planned mine anyway.”
“Lambo is going west to the Skylord Castle,” it announced. “Will you take me there?”
Yamamoto smiled. “Why not? Sounds like a fun game to me.” He bent down to pick up the kid. Up close, Lambo seemed more likely to be male than female. He had short stubby arms and was fairly wriggly, so Yamamoto decided to carry him by the hair instead. Lambo didn't seem to mind. He dangled in Yamamoto's grasp while chewing his apple, and was quiet and well-behaved for quite some time, as they made their way out of the valley and into the woodlands beyond, continuing west.
Part III.
I STILL HAVE NO REBORN ICONS.
Summary: At the outset of his journey, Yamamoto meets a couple of visitors.
Wordcount 1500
Notes: Previously known as Sword-rain. I, uh, changed the title of this fic halfway through. YET MORE REBORN PHAIL FROM ME. Thanks to
ashesto for saving me from drowning in typo-hell!Part 1 here.
Yamamoto followed the road for several hours before stopping for lunch. He unwrapped his sushi rolls and estimated that he had enough for now and tonight; and maybe tomorrow's breakfast if he ate sparingly. There was little point in keeping sushi overnight though, so Yamamoto ate as much as he liked, which didn't leave much for dinner. His father had only given him enough money to buy food for seven days, so hopefully the Cavallone would grant him hospitality when he arrived. Ah well. He'd deal with it when the time came. He finished his meal, stood and stretched, and continued on his way.
The sun was very bright now, and the air was dry. When he left Namimori this morning, it'd been cloudy. Yamamoto remembered fishermen complaining about the unpredictable weather these last few months. There had been windless mornings turning to gales by noontime, and days of simultaneous sunshine and rainstorm; it had even snowed one evening in the middle of summer. It was all very unusual for Namimori – even though there was at least one place on Vongola lands, the city of the Varia, where erratic weather was known to be the norm.
Fortunately today it remained sunny until nightfall, which was when Yamamoto found himself in a rapidly darkening forest with no shelter anywhere in sight. He found a small grove close to the main road, that seemed like a good compromise between being attacked by bandits and being attacked by wild animals, and after gathering some fallen wood managed to start a fire using his flint. He was about to unpack his sushi for dinner, when he heard a rustling noise coming from the foliage behind him.
Something exploded at his feet.
When he leaped back, a series of bright fizzing objects came flying out of the undergrowth. They seemed to be aimed at his face. Yamamoto did what seemed like the most sensible thing to do: he dodged.
He avoided all of them quite easily. Two of the explosives shot past him when he ducked and went straight into the fire, making it whoosh up suddenly in a flare of blue and bright purple. The rest landed on the ground and blew up.
For several minutes the area shook with explosions, Yamamoto's vision was completely clouded by smoke and multicoloured flame. He blinked, and when the air cleared he saw a boy who looked the same age as him standing in front of him.
The boy was silver-haired and scowling. He held ten glowing sticks of various colours in his hands, and five smaller sticks with red-hot ends clenched in between his teeth. “Spying bastard,” he snarled. “Who are you working for?”
“Erm,” said Yamamoto, scratching his head. “I think we might have a misunderstanding here.”
The other boy wasn't listening. He used the smaller sticks in his mouth to light the larger sticks in his hands, and was about to throw the latter at Yamamoto, when a bird flying overhead decided to defecate on his head.
The sudden splat on his hair made him start, dropping all the sticks he was carrying (both larger and smaller ones). They fell scattered at their feet, and began to spark ominously.
Yamamoto dove to the ground. He grabbed a fistful of the sticks and hurtled them upwards, into the distance. They flew above the tree tops and erupted, sending out a shower of brightness against the night sky.
The remaining sticks he hadn't manage to grab went off, and they scrambled out of the explosions' way. When it had all subsided they found themselves staring at each other. The silver-haired boy was having a coughing fit.
Yamamoto brought out his handkerchief and started to fan away the smoke. It didn’t help much. “Are you all right?” he asked. “That was a pretty impressive show you put on there.”
The boy frowned, as if he was trying very hard to understand something. “You weren't following me.”
“Well, er, no!” Yamamoto shrugged. “But hey, that's fine. Nobody got hurt, right? Well, it looks like most of the trees have been burnt to crisps, but they’re not really people, so that’s still all right.”
Right on cue a pine tree creaked, shuddered, and toppled over, its impact making the earth shudder.
Yamamoto decided to forge ahead with the conversation. “I’m Yamamoto Takeshi. What's your name?”
It was too hard to tell in the dark – the only source of light was Yamamoto's fire, which was burning well, although it had turned bright green and was twice the size it had been before – but he thought he could see the other boy flushing red with embarassment. He snapped out his reply: “You can call me Gokudera.”
“Gokudera, huh? Sounds like a Namimori name.” He was about to invite the other boy to have some sushi, but Gokudera had already turned and begun to stalk (stomp, really) away. He disappeared into the darkness; Yamamoto was left staring after him bemusedly until his stomach growled to remind him that it was dinnertime. He found a relatively unburnt patch of grass on which to sit, finished off his sushi – the last he would eat for several weeks – and then rolled into a comfortable position and went to sleep.
Daylight saw him with stiff sore limbs and soot-covered clothing. He dusted himself off, packed up his belongings and left the charred, blackened grove (or what used to be a grove, since there were scarcely any trees left worthy of the name). From here on the path wound uphill between two mountains, and then into a wide valley filled with fruit orchards. The apples had ripened, and Yamamoto picked several to eat. He munched on one as he walked, putting the rest away.
He'd nearly reached the end of the valley, when he spotted what he thought at first was a baby cow, running around a small paddock; soon after he saw that it was far too small and the wrong shape to be a cow. On closer examination it proved to be a human child, with black bushy hair and a one-piece suit that looked like cow's skin. It leaped up as Yamamoto approached, and pointed a fat metal wand at its nose.
“I'm the thunder wizard Lambo!” it declared, and made a funny blowing noise with his nose. “Prepare to die!”
Much to Yamamoto's surprise, streams of lightning came spurting from the wand, and for the second time in two days he was obliged to practise his dodging skills.
Lambo seemed to get frustrated when its lightning bolts didn't hit Yamamoto. After about five tries and a lot of scorched grass, it sat down and started to cry.
“Would you like something to eat?” tried Yamamoto, feeling awkward.
It used one hand to wipe snot from its nose and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Do you have any grapes?” it demanded.
“No. But I have some apples, if you'd like some.” He pulled an apple out of his pack and offered it to him. Lambo sniffed at it before biting off a chunk and chewing.
“Where is your family?” Yamamoto asked. “Your parents must be wondering where you are, huh.”
Lambo folded its arms across its chest. “I am from the Bovino family! Lord Bovino has given me a quest to defeat the the Ultra Super Powerful Wizard Reborn,” it said proudly.
“Defeat an ultra-powerful wizard? That sounds like a great goal. Where does this wizard live?”
Lambo looked flummoxed. Finally it said: “I don't know.”
“Sounds like your first task should be to hunt down the wizard's lair, then. Do you have any ideas where to look?”
It brightened. “I know where! The Skylord Castle! In Vongola City! That's where Reborn is hiding.”
“Ahahahaha, in the Vongola Prince's castle? That's a great thought. Seems like you've planned your quest well,” said Yamamoto. “Well, much better than I've planned mine anyway.”
“Lambo is going west to the Skylord Castle,” it announced. “Will you take me there?”
Yamamoto smiled. “Why not? Sounds like a fun game to me.” He bent down to pick up the kid. Up close, Lambo seemed more likely to be male than female. He had short stubby arms and was fairly wriggly, so Yamamoto decided to carry him by the hair instead. Lambo didn't seem to mind. He dangled in Yamamoto's grasp while chewing his apple, and was quiet and well-behaved for quite some time, as they made their way out of the valley and into the woodlands beyond, continuing west.
Part III.
I STILL HAVE NO REBORN ICONS.
