Introduction

Quiet Hours

I gaze out at the gray skies before me, sitting upon a window sill as I contemplate what was, what is, and what was to come. Rain pelted the window like a reflection into me, streaking down the window, skewing the view outside. My life has now been quiet for some time, finding a peace I had not thought possible. Some call me arrogant; others think I am too proud. They did not understand, and I was not one to talk openly about my past, especially my past. It was something to be left buried in the dark depths of my mind.

Shifting my weight, I grew more comfortable upon the narrow ledge. If I had my tail, it would have flicked at the tip, allowing me to have some outward manner of showing how I felt. At times like this, I still longed for my brown furred appendage. If I were on my native world, I would be considered a laughing stock, someone to be mocked and teased for not having it.

Kakarrot, Gohan, Piccolo, and others that knew me, knew not to speak of what had been. I did not open up to them. Why am I opening up now? Maybe it is my age, or the fact that I have grown wiser in my experiences. Either way, the gray skies above only serve to remind me of my darker past, a story I have not shared with anyone. Even my wife, Bulma had not known of my brutal history.

At some point in everyone's life, there comes a time when that person is tested, challenged, and put through a fire that they feel is more traumatic than anyone else's. The truth is, no matter how bad you have had it, there is always another that has had it worse. Was my life the worst? Perhaps it is in the eyes of some. To others, it may not be. This is what I will put before you.

I lay before you a decision to determine if my life was or was not the worst. The important fact that must be taken to heart, must be that you must never stop fighting. You have to get mad, brush it off, and then stand right back up. It is the only way to find what you are made of.

Kakarrot is easy to get along with, easy to be a friend to. He has never had to bear the wrenching pain of losing a mother or the searing rage of being held a slave. Kakarrot has never had to scratch and scramble for everything he has, nor bear the agonizing torment of losing a planet and being old enough to remember the world as it had been. To put it short, he had everything handed to him. He was given everything he needed and more, not once having to face such atrocities as I had to while growing up.

It is possible that you will not understand me and therefore judge me by my harsh mannerisms, and my gruff tone. True, I am proud, very proud, but after what I had endured, it is well earned. My words are quick to cut and silent when I deem words unnecessary. There are other situations where words are simply pointless.

So here it is. This is the moment where my story is told. It was a task I was pointedly trying to avoid, but now find inevitably necessary. Now my readers, I leave it to you. I leave it in your hands to determine if I was the proud arrogant warrior that was too hot headed to listen to others. I give you the moment to glimpse inside and see if I was the forgotten warrior, a Saiyan Prince, justified in my anger and rage. Or was I the hero that no one wanted to know because I was just too much like you, flawed, and imperfect. I am the Prince of Saiyans and this is my story.