Rise of the Disgraced

Divergence

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball, Dragonball Z, Dragonball GT, and any associated franchise. That is Akira Toriyama's product and pride. I only own the original plot idea and my headcanons on Saiyans and other things the manga never developed into.

Author: Invader Cole.

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Tarble couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He wasn't exactly sure where it began. Actually, that was a lie; he knew exactly where it began. So what was this mysterious event?

It was the beginning of the end of him as a prince.

Tarble refused to do it; he wouldn't kill innocent people who didn't deserve it. In fact he wouldn't kill at all. It wasn't in his heart or nature. What would he even gain from this?

"Honor." Vegeta's voice reminded him. "Just about everyone in the castle knows Tarble that you're a weakling. Father wasn't happy with the results; he could have killed you. Fortunately, me and mother convinced him to give you another chance. If you want honor yourself, Tarble, you need to kill the inhabitants of Skyrim."

It seemed to simple enough to everyone except two: Tarble and Vegeta. King Vegeta. Both of them knew he didn't have the heart of a killer. Both of them knew he was a pacifist. Both of them knew he couldn't go through with this mission.

Minutes after Tarble entered one of the cities of Skyrim; he felt a chill run down his back. He turned around to see a man five feet tall. A slizy smile and black death eyes. Tarble was too stunned to move; he believed that he was going to die there. The Skyrim occupant put his hand out, Tarble said his prayers. "Hey, kid. Don't you know how to greet a new pal? Turn around and shake my hand."

Tarble had to have done this biggest mockery to the Saiyan's and House of Vegeta of all time. He made friends with Skyrimian's. It didn't stop there, no. To add insult to injury he helped free them from a corrupt king.

His fate was sealed.

/

"You ingrate!" King Vegeta punched Tarble in the face. "Son of a bitch!" He smacked his across the face. Blood oozing from the child's mouth. "I offered you a chance to prove yourself. A chance to restore your honor and this is how you repay me?!" The King punched him in the gut.

Tarble had a hard enough time breathing; he couldn't speak. Even if he could speak he would be begging for him to stop. He wasn't sorry for what he did, but he didn't want to go through this pain anymore.

"Dad! Let Tarble go! He's had enough!" Vegeta demanded; he forced himself through the guards.

King Vegeta tossed Tarble to his namesake like he was a doll. His son was unstable and not to mention stronger than him. If he continued the beating it would cause unneeded trouble. (END)

Ever since his horrible beating, Tarble refused to come out of his room; he refused to speak to anyone. All he could hear was the whispers through his door. His father, Vegeta, killed of Skyrim anyways. He worked so hard to let the people live, he became their friend and savior, and he killed them off.

What was this feeling? It burned. It swelled up inside of his stomach and started to spread. It made him clench his fist. He wanted to commit a act of violence. This was a new feeling: welcome hatred.

Things were just so different ever since. Vegeta took more missions so he couldn't be at home. He needed to take his anger out on something. Meaning he wasn't around to protect Tarble from getting picked on. Not that he was going to tell him. Vegeta would probably tell him to fight his own battle.