


Star Warrior

by Dr. Glove



Category: Zatch Bell
Genre: Adventure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-10-13
Updated: 2006-10-16
Packaged: 2013-10-25 01:04:43
Rating: T
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,307
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3197288/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/417261/Dr-Glove
Summary: The life of Pamoon: His battle 1000 years ago to his final encounter with Zatch. Hopefully historically accurate. How many name puns can you find?





	1. Pamoon's Search

Pamoon gripped his book tightly as he shivered. The rain was coming down in sheets. The night night's darkness was repelled only by flashes of lightning and the loud blasts of thunderous din. Nobody was traveling if they could help it, and those who were were terrified. Pamoon, however, was not. He could sense how close he was to finding his bookkeeper, and the very thought of finally participating in the sacred battle excited him and made him hold his book ever closer. After a mere week of searching, he would at last find his partner!

The week had not been kind to him. Upon arriving in this strange new world he was immediately attacked by warriors. The precious book became a liability, as it was all he could do to run away. The warriors pursued him, though, and sought to kill him, all the while shouting about servants of a "devil."

Pamoon shivered again. Would his bookkeeper react like that? He had been so excited at the thought of meeting him that he hadn't considered this. Imagine his parent's reactions if he returned first, having been defeated by his own bookkeeper!

He walked on for a long time. The night grew darker, the lightning more frequent, but the rain eased to a simple drizzle. Pamoon saw in the distance, illuminated by the lightning, a towering black structure. He ran toward it, filled with excitement and worry at the same time.

He entered what appeared to be a growing village, surrounded by a simple wooden palisade. He walked past pitifully inadequate huts covered in mud and hay. Animals looked up at him as he walked past, but paid him no heed. Pamoon walked toward the black structure, and found it to be a castle with a half-finished out wall of stone and mortar. He marveled at it for a moment before continuing on. He entered the great oak doors to the keep.

It was pitch black inside. Pamoon bumbled about for a time, edging along the wall, before finding an unlit torch and flint. With his newfound light he inspected the book. He sighed in relief. Though it was quite wet, it was very durable; there was no damage.

He shivered again. The castle was very cold and dreary, the torch the only warmth. He found a stairwell and ventured upward. He heart was pounding; would he be attacked once more? He didn't know, but he could sense his bookkeeper was close, so close!

At the top of the stairs he reached a hallway. He could see more unlit torches and sconces, but did not dare to light them. He walked on for a while and was about to turn a corner when he heard footsteps.

"Who's there?"

A gruff voice. Pamoon was afraid, would he be attacked? But he was filled with a calm sense of completion, and he knew he had found his bookkeeper.

"I said, who is there? I can see your torchlight, you can't hide from me!"

Pamoon took a breath and replied. "My name is Pamoon. I have come to this world to fight a sacred battle, and I need you to help me. You are my bookkeeper: Where you go I must go, for you control my fate."

After a short pause the gruff voice answered again. "Pamoon? What sort of nonsense do you speak of? Show yourself; I cannot stand a charlatan, much less an intruder upon my lord's castle!"

Pamoon turned the corner. He saw by the torchlight a man with a mustache holding a candle, looking as though he could not sleep. The man dropped his candle. "W-what are you?"

"I am a warrior, here to fight a sacred war." Pamoon held the book towards him. "This book belongs to you."

The man took the book and opened it. It began to glow a brilliant yellow. "What sort of writing is this?" The man asked aloud. "I can't read anything... wait... _Farusu_!"

Several stars appeared in the air above them. The man dropped the book in surprise. "What magic is this?"

"The power to create the king of kings." Pamoon replied, smiling nervously.

"Y-you must be... you have to be..." the man stuttered. "God be praised... an angel under my command!"

Pamoon cocked his head and smiled. He didn't know what the heck an angel was or the heck this God person was, but he could tell one thing: It was better than being a servant of a devil.


	2. Pamoon's Training

Pamoon was in the study of Lord Burke, reading the Bible as Father Pierre demanded him. Pamoon obliged, but did not find it to be worth the effort. In fact, the book scared him slightly, as the strange logic surrounding laws seemed to him needlessly violent. However, he learned quickly not to question this "God," having watched the Inquisition tie a man to four horses in four different directions, ripping his arms and legs off, for questioning God.

It had taken a while for Shelby (His bookkeeper) to convince Lord Burke, Father Pierre, and the Inquisition that Pamoon was not a demon. Pamoon looked back on this and smiled at his own naivety on the issue at hand, having asked, "What's an angel? Who is this 'God?'"

Pamoon looked up from the Bible and saw the hourglass to be empty. His reading time was finished at last. Setting the book down, he walked through the castle, looking for Sir Shelby. He was distracted, however, when he passed a window and glimpsed the construction of the stone wall. He watched for a while until the young daughter of Lord Burke, Fanchon found him.

"Pamoon! There you are!"

Pamoon turned and looked at her. By general estimate, she was a pretty girl of about his age. "Ah, hello Lady Fanchon."

Fanchon giggled. "You're always so formal, Pamoon. You don't _have_ to call me that until I'm married."

"Sir Shelby calls you Lady Fanchon."

"And he's a knight under my father, so he has to."

"I see. Speaking of Shelby, have you seen him?"

Fanchon looked slightly put out. "He's down in the courtyard sparring with Sir Andre."

Pamoon nodded. "Thanks, Lady Fanchon. I'll see you later, then."

He made a bow and walked away as Fanchon replied, "Just Fanchon, Pamoon."

He descended the steps into the courtyard. Leaving the keep, he immediately saw Lord Burke and his son Lowell watching Sir Shelby and Sir Andre battle with wooden swords. Pamoon could not tell who was Shelby and who was Andre as their helmets obscured their identities, but soon one had knocked the other down and taken off their helmet. Shelby had won, and he wiped sweat from his brow as Lord Burke and Lowell clapped.

"You almost got me with the uppercut there, Andre." Shelby said, helping Andre up.

"But almost means nothing in battle." Andre replied, pulling his helmet off as well. "Ah, I see you watched too, Pamoon."

"Not for long, Sir Andre." Pamoon answered.

"So what brings you down here, Pamoon?" Asked Shelby.

"We need to train." Pamoon replied. "We could be attacked at any moment."

"Aren't you eager to do battle." Shelby said. "Look at these walls; Even half-built, they still block any intruder."

"They wouldn't keep Belgium E.O. out." Pamoon said. "He'd blast right through."

"Belgium E.O.?"

"He's an opponent in the sacred battle, and one I truly wish not to fight."

"Very well, then." Shelby said. "Train we shall. Do you care to watch, my lord?"

"Do I?" Lord Burke said loudly. "I would like to see what you can do, Pamoon. Go on, show me what you have."

Shelby opened the book. "_Farusu_!"

Stars appeared in the air again. Lord Burke and Lowell oohed and aahed, as Pamoon moved the stars around with his limbs. He aimed them at a stump.

"_Farusu_!"

The stars shot out blasts of green light, blasting the stump to pieces. Lord Burke, Lowell, and Sir Andre clapped in admiration. Atop the castle, the mamodo Magoria(1) and his partner Swaantje looked on in fear. Swaantje gulped. "Magoria, they're out of our league." She said.

"Y-yeah, let's get out of here!" Magoria replied.

Swaantje opened the magenta book and said "_Poruk_," Magoria transformed into a large bird, which Swaantje got on. They then flew away, hoping someone else would defeat that star mamodo.

(1)Magoria is an ancestor of Kanchome.


	3. Pamoon's Second Spell

Pamoon decided that he did not like Sundays. He was marched along with all the villagers and residents of Lord Burke's castle into Father Pierre's chapel. He then sat for two hours listening to the priest talk in gibberish. Afterwards he got to sit around the castle and do nothing all day. Entertainment of the macabre sort was provided when somebody had done a dance before having his lower jaw ripped off by the Inquisition for his crime of not only dancing, but dancing _on a Sunday_.

Naturally, Pamoon was overjoyed when Monday came round. Finally allowed to do something again, he spoke to Lady Fanchon for a while before walking to Lord Burke's study for the daily reading. He just opened up to _1 Chronicles_ when a loud bell was rung. Sir Andre was yelling something, and it sounded like an emergency.

Pamoon rushed down the stairs and met Sir Shelby halfway. "What's happening, Shelby?"

"Someone has destroyed the palisade!" Shelby answered. "And I think they're like you!"

"A mamodo!" Pamoon yelled. "We have to fight them, Shelby! The guards won't be able to stop them!"

"Right!" Shelby replied, running down the stairs. As they left the castle grounds they saw firsthand the destruction caused. "Pamoon! Is that Belgium E.O.?"

"No, I don't know who that is." Pamoon answered. "But Belgium E.O. is a lot larger and confined to a chair."

"Confined to a chair?" Shelby asked. "How can he be so dangerous then?"

"I'll tell you later! First we've got to burn this mamodo's book! If we do, then he'll return to the mamodo world."

"I see."

They stopped running. The mamodo and its partner stood before them. The mamodo was an oval hovering in mid air, bright pink and black stripes all over. Around it slowly orbited nine red orbs. It had no features in general. Its partner was a tall red haired man with a green tunic and cap. "Circum, we found them!" The man said.

"Excellent." Replied the mamodo. "I knew this would draw them out."

"Shelby! The spell!" Pamoon urged.

"Right." Shelby replied, opening the book. "_Farusu_!"

Stars appeared in the air above them.

"Is that all?" Circum laughed. "Pembroke!"

"_Orbonuk_!"

Circum turned sideways, the orbs rotating wildly until they formed a red ring around him. He then launched forward at lightning speed, smashing straight into Pamoon and launching him through a hut and into a boulder.

"Pamoon!" Shelby shouted.

Dust covered the boulder and Pamoon. Shelby couldn't tell if he was alive or dead. Pembroke laughed. "Hah! What a pathetic excuse for a mamodo! It only took one hit to kill him!"

Circum laughed. "Let's burn his book, then, Pembroke."

Pembroke continued to laugh. "Yes, let's!"

Shelby drew his sword. "I will kill you where you stand, servants of Satan!"

Pembroke laughed again. "Honestly, Frenchman, you believe a Welshman to be demonic? I take offense!"

"So we'll kill him!" Circum said. "Pembroke, say the spell."

"Shelby!"

Everyone turned to see Pamoon standing again, his forehead bleeding but otherwise unharmed. "Shelby! The spell! Use the spell!"

"What?" Pembroke muttered. He turned around absentmindedly and saw, to his horror, four stars aiming at his spine point blank.

"_Farusu_!"

Pembroke turned his body but was still blasted head on. He went flying backwards and landed in a ditch. "No!" Shouted Circum.

"Now to burn your book." Pamoon said, walking toward Circum. He moved the stars over Pembroke. "Shelby, the spell, please."

"Right, Pamoon." Shelby answered. "_Faru_-"

"_Ganzu Orbido_!"

Circum's orbs lurched forward, enveloped in energy. They struck Shelby, launching him at the palisade.

"Shelby!" Pamoon yelled.

"Heh, looks like it's your book now." Circum laughed. "You okay, Pembroke?"

"I've been better." the Welshman said, climbing out of the ditch.

"Good." Replied Circum. "Now, let's finish this—What the?"

Pamoon slashed the mamodo with Shelby's dropped sword. "No, you won't burn my book, you won't destroy this village, and you won't kill Sir Shelby!" he stated flatly. "And if you try, I'll kill you both."

Pembroke began to back away. "Put the sword down."

"Yes, Pamoon. You can't use it effectively as I."

Pamoon looked back. "Shelby!"

"The second spell: _Faruga_!" the Knight spoke.

The stronger blasts hit Circum dead center. He made a loud gurgling noise before flying into the air. "P-P-Pemb-r-r-oke! U-use i-it!" he gasped.

"Right!" Pembroke answered. "_Mirari Orbunda_!"

The orbs orbiting Circum grew until they were as big as boulders before falling toward the earth. Pamoon reacted quickly, moving his stars directly all around Pembroke, aimed at the book.

"S-spare me!" Pembroke cried.

"Shelby! Use it now!"

"_Faruga_!"

The blasts struck Circum's book, vaporizing it instantly. Circum and his orbs vanished. Pembroke was knocked unconscious. Pamoon gasped for breath, exhausted. Sir Shelby walked up to him and placed a hand on the mamodo's head, rubbing it affectionately. "We did it, Pamoon. We did it."


	4. Pamoon's Explanation

"A toast to Pamoon!"

Goblets clanked together in the great hall of Lord Burke. Everyone important was joining the celebration, even Father Pierre (Whose vow forbid him to participate). Pamoon was rather embarrassed.

"I was merely taking part in the sacred battle to determine the mamodo king." He explained.

"You saved the castle, boy!" Sir Andre laughed. "There's no way anyone else could have stopped that thing."

"It's true, Pamoon." Lady Fanchon said.

Lord Burke thought for a moment before speaking. "Now, Pamoon, you have not told us much about this 'sacred battle.' Would you care to explain what you're talking about?"

Pamoon nodded. "Of course, Lord Burke. Every one thousand years, a hundred mamodo children are sent over to this world to fight each other for the title of king. The rules simply say that the last mamodo standing wins. We each possess a spell book, which is not only the source of our power but what binds us to this world; when the book is burned, the mamodo is defeated."

"I see." Shelby mused. "That's why it disappeared when you blasted the book."

"Correct." Pamoon continued. "A book is burned when it suffers serious damage or its mamodo dies. If the bookkeeper is killed, then the mamodo is rendered powerless, as nobody else can cast spells. I suppose, theoretically, if the mamodo is clever enough they can survive without a bookkeeper, but I wouldn't risk it."

"So is that all?" Lowell asked. "What can the king do?"

"The king gets a sort of limited immortality." Said Pamoon. "It ends when the next king is chosen. So long as a king names a successor, he can abdicate his throne at any time. However, he will die shortly thereafter and the successor will pass on when the next victor is decided."

"That's incredible." Sir Andre commented.

"Pamoon..." Fanchon mumbled.

"Remarkable!" Lord Burke said.

"Satanic." Father Pierre muttered under his breath.

"Now, you keep mentioning a Belgium E.O." Sir Shelby stated. "Who is he?"

"He's a giant powerful mamodo, more than capable of destroying this castle in an instant. He's a purely offensive mamodo, with only incredible attacks to his name." Pamoon replied. "I'm not sure where he is, but if we meet, you'll know. The only other mamodo I know is Neor (1), who can control water. That's all I know."

There was a moment of silence before Lowell spoke. "Well, that's all fine, but aren't we having a feast to celebrate the first victory of the mamodo king?"

Pamoon smiled. "Yes, I think we are."

(1)Neor is an ancestor of Penny/Patie


	5. Pamoon's Fear

It was raining again. Pamoon felt a strange happiness because of it. He could not identify the emotion's source, but knew that somehow the rain had to do with it.

Lord Burke, Father Pierre, and the Inquisition had wished to execute Pembroke. Pamoon, however, had talked them out of it. "He was simply participating in the sacred battle. Why should he die? Nobody died because of him." After a couple hours' debate, Pembroke was sentenced to a mere six-month prison stay. The Welshman cried with thanks to Pamoon for his mercy, though the mamodo could not help but feel a savage pleasure about locking him away.

At this point Pamoon began to act as though he read the Bible daily. He read specific snippets and chapters to prove he had "read" it, but actually spent most of his time reading about an ancient utopia named Rome. He was fascinated by it. The perfect society, without this terrible Inquisition, he mused.

He decided that, should he become king, that he would rule like a Roman emperor, with cold but honest justice and efficiency. Pamoon chided himself for such thoughts, however, reasoning that he had little chance of victory in this most sacred war. It reminded him of his training, and despite a reluctant Shelby, he managed to distract the wall builders with his power long enough to earn himself a lecture and slap in the face from Father Pierre.

Pamoon did not like Father Pierre.

Pamoon was back in Lord Burke's study reading about Rome's complex aqueducts when Sir Andre interrupted me. "Hm, have you finished your daily readings yet?"

"Yes, I have." The mamodo replied with a smirk. "And have you finished yours?"

"Touché, Pamoon, touché." The knight nodded. "Actually, I haven't. But let's not let Father Pierre know, all right?"

Pamoon nodded. "Of course."

"To business." Sir Andre said. "I interrogated Pembroke this morning and got some valuable information about the mamodo battle."

"What kind?"

"Four competitors, all very dangerous. One is named Earl, and he is terrorizing Germany at the moment. Also from Germany comes Malvare, who seeks allies to help him become king. Then there is Goren from Greece, who is turning mamodo to stone"

"Petrifying them?" Pamoon said. "That's terrible. I hope I don't have to face him. That's... that's disturbing."

Pamoon was terrified at the prospect of being turned to stone. He could not understand why it scared him so much, as he would probably be fine, but a great wave of foreboding washed over him.

"Are you all right?" Sir Andre asked. "You look ill."

"I... I'm fine." Pamoon answered. "Now, what about the last one?"

"He's a monster called Demort. He's destroyed a number of cities, whether they have mamodo or not."

Pamoon was silent for a moment. "I see. Thanks for this, Sir Andre."

"It's no problem." Andre said. "Are you sure you're okay? You still look bad."

"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine." Pamoon said.

Sir Andre turned to leave. "If you say so. I'll see you later, Pamoon."

That night, as the rain continued to fall, Pamoon sat against the wall, shaking in fear, a candle's feeble light illuminating his face. He could not sleep. Nightmares of statues began to plague his mind. What if he was petrified? The thought of his parents brought tears to his eyes.

"Mother... father..."

The curse of the stone had begun.


End file.
