


The War of Tomes

by motordog



Category: Zatch Bell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2014-08-16 15:00:31
Rating: T
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,524
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6570293/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2177226/motordog
Summary: Demons from a world of magic send their most promising children to Earth, to seek companions and engage in a tournament to determine the ruler of their world.





	1. Chapter 1

_Hey all...figured I'd give a shot at a Zatch Bell-inspired setting. While much of the original concept is still in play, I've decided to experiment a bit with some of the details...I guess this would have to be considered an "AU" version. I'm not sure if established characters are going to show up or not, but it is set in the modern world. I've also set down a few other rules to apply to my story, mostly having to do with the spellbooks. Here are some basics to start with;_

_There are now 333 mamodo children in the tournament. While this may seem like a large number, it would only require eight or nine rounds of matches to determine a winner. While it's still more of a hunt than a round-robin tournament, and won't always break down so easily, you get the idea. Besides, the world's a big place...that many mamodo would still seem incredibly small compared to the billions of humans around them. Which brings me to my next point..._

_Now, any mamodo can get a vague sense of the location of other mamodos by holding their own book and concentrating. The feeling imparted won't be precise, but it can be used to eventually track down all the other mamodos (and allow them to eventually track you as well). This is done to ensure that all contenstants in the battle actually fight. In addition, the more battles you win, the better your tracking sense becomes. Eventually, the mamodo with the most wins (and most power) will be able to find everyone...so no use hiding, your best bet is to get in the game and gain power (though those wishing to actively fight do show up stronger than those wishing to lay low). A specific mamodo can't be identified solely by this tracking power, even by those who know him, and the closest the power will ever indicate is within a radius of 100 feet._

_Ever wonder how some of the really, really odd mamodos seem to just wander around without any problem? The books also create a magical 'cloaking' effect on most normal humans. They will still see the mamodo, and even be able to discern their unusual abilities and features, but none of this will seem odd to that human. Any obvious differences are either ignored or easily explained away with the flimsiest of reasons. About one in a hundred humans might remember/realize more, and that's one way for a mamodo to help identify his bookowner...they always recognize mamodos as being 'unearthly'._

_On the inside cover of each book is a clearly inscribed number. This number is the number of remaining contestants in the battle, which changes by itself as that number drops. Exactly who was defeated by whom remains unrevealed._

_...so...on with the story. This is really more of a prelude than a proper chapter. I'll introduce one character, and set up a battle. _

_

* * *

_The sun was just kissing the western horizon, and the sky was painted in fiery shades of orange and pink. A large, rugged-looking man leaned back against a boulder, sitting in the shade as the afternoon desert heat quickly began to fade. He had stopped to take a break about a half-hour ago at a convenient roadside rest stop, as he had spent most of the day travelling. The last few days still seemed like a dream to him, in some ways. He pulled the large, bright yellow-green book out and opened it, looking at the strange symbols written on the thick pages.

The man reading the book didn't look like the book-reading type. He was tall, with a solid, muscular frame, long brown hair woven into a single long braid, and a trim beard and mustache. A long scar ran down the left side of his face, and his dark tanned skin sported many tattoos, including full sleeves, and even a few on his neck. His features were strong, with a heavy jaw, broken nose and furrowed brow...he was probably in his late 30's. He was wearing biker boots, jeans, and a sleeveless black t-shirt. A half-helmet rested nearby on the seat of his Harley.

A rhythmic, high-pitched purring suddenly arose from the left saddlebag on his bike, caused him to look up momentarily, then smile to himself.

"Hmm...so she snores, too" he mumbled in a gravelly drawl, as he reluctantly pulled out and put on a pair of reading glasses. "How the hell can she can sleep right next to that roaring engine, but wake up when she hears a freakin' candy bar being unwrapped?"

A number on the inside cover read "319"...which was unsettling, as last night, it said "322". The script, though beautifully calligraphied, was mostly just gibberish, except for the first few lines...it seemed to clearly say "_Nijiru_", though he certainly didn't know what language this was. He didn't say it out loud, of course, least his ride be damaged in the resulting discharge of energy. Sounded crazy, but he had seen a whole mess of crazy in just the past few days, and something told him the worst was yet to come.

The sound of a car engine slowing down and pulling into the rest area caused Cade to look up. This part of the highway was very remote, and he hadn't even seen a car nearly the whole time they had been there...certainly not a car like this.

A beautiful, candy-apple red Duesenberg LeGrande rolled to a stop across the small parking area. Cade found himself whistling in spite of himself as he admired the classic, graceful lines of the car. The owner clearly took very good care of her. He intended to hail the driver and possibly get a closer look, then suddenly snapped to a state of readiness as he saw what came out of the vehicle.

A greenish-brown iguana-like creature, standing on its hind legs and wearing what looked like green and yellow lederhosen, scampered around the open door and regarded Cade with what looked like a wicked smile. It then seemed to unfurl a frill around it's neck, almost like it was popping open some kind of neck-umbrella...or one of those cones a dog has to wear so it won't lick it's own wounds.

"They're _HERE_, Blaine!" the lizard hissed loudly.

"Oh, I _see_ them, my dear Checho," came a posh voice from the other side of the car. A short, older, rather androgynous human stepped around the front. The tone and general demeanor made Cade think it was probably a man, but he wasn't sure. He was wearing an old fashioned red suit, complete with red bowler hat and ascot. His hair was white, and he wore a pair of granny glasses on the end of his rather pointy nose. His lips were pursed, and he had a fair amount of wrinkles...and what looked like a bit of rouge and lipstick. In his red-gloved hands was a dark red book...a book which looked suspiciously like the one Cade was holding.

"_Bellalani_!" Cade yelled "Wake up! Yo, 'Lani! We got some of that _company_ you were telling me about!"

"Huh..._wh_-what?" came the sleepy reply from the saddlebag. It's flap flipped up from inside, as a small being stood up inside it and streatched her tiny arms over her head, yawning widely. She rubbed her eyes, blinked a few times, then looked out eagerly at the newcomers.

With a small yip, the pixie-like girl unfurled a double pair of shimmery, dragonfly-like wings and jumped out of the bag. She was barely a foot tall, with a thin frame. Her long, platinum blonde hair was worn loose, with a noticable tuft on the top of her head. Her eyes were bright green, and had faint lines running from, down her cheeks. Her ears were thin, pointy and quite long, sticking out a bit to the sides. She wore several gauzy, scarf-like cloths tied around her thin body. As she started gaining altitude, she looked down on Cade.

"See! I told you the book would led us in the right direction! And you thought it was a waste of time riding all the way out here!"

"I do beg your pardon," the one known as Blaine interupted, "but I only feel it is right to advise you to surrender your book and just admit defeat. Save yourselves a right drubbing! My dear boy Checho and I have already defeated two other mamodo, and I understand the competition has only just begun! Clearly, with Checho's undeniable martial skills and my own intellect and good breeding, we are a force to be feared."

"_Yeah_! What he said!" Checho agreed in a shrill voice.

Cade stood to his full height, causing Blaine to gulp a bit and involuntarily take a step backward. Though it didn't seem possible, the large man's scowl actually deepened.

"Blah, blah, blah...bring it on, you creepy little bastard," he growled "Oh...by the way...nice car."

Blaine clutched one hand at his collar, with a look of umbridge on his pinched face. "Thank you," he said flatly, "It was very expensive. Now..._En Garde_!" And with that, he snapped his book open, and his features were illuminated by the glowing script.


	2. The WitchHunters

_Thanks for the kind reviews! I'll admit, I'm not even sure where I'm going to go with this story...bits and pieces keep floating around my imagination (characters, situations, etc), and I'm sure I can eventually weave together a coherent tale. As for OC's...well, I don't know if I'll need any or not, but I'd be more than happy to consider any that are submitted. I love seeing other people's creativity, and sometimes I won't get an idea until something sparks my muse, so to speak. Any characters included will be given full credit to the creators, of course. I have at least two or three over-plots lurking in the back of my mind...one (or maybe more) will eventually win out! _

_Hope you like this chapter...it's short, but I think it's sufficiently dramatic. I'll admit, I'm a very lazy writer. I'm good with characters and ideas, but seeing it through to the end isn't my strong point. I'll probably have quite a few short chapters, but I guess that's probably better than to just keep putting it off because I'm too lazy! XD_

* * *

Maury Glick huffed and puffed and sweated as he scurried up the sharp incline, catching his sweater on twigs and thorns as he blindly hurried forward into the darkness. His breath billowed out in a thin vapor, as the autumn night was quite chilly. Even so, sweat beaded on his balding head. The new track shoes he had bought so he could go '_runnin' round with that weird kid_' (as his wife, Sarah, put it) were soaking wet and caked in mud. A tan-colored book was clutched in his arms. Occasionally, he'd glance around with a panicked look on his face.

'_Where the hell did that kid get to?_' he thought feverishly, "_did we lose that psychopath in the mask? Oy! What in God's name is going ON here_?"

"Yoji!" Maury hissed loudly into the gloom, "Yoji, it's _me_..._Maury_! Where'd ya' _get_ to, ya' crazy kid!"

A snap of a branch made Maury turn around, and what he saw nearly made him plotz. "Oh, no!" he gasped, backing away and losing his footing, falling backwards onto his back and knocking the rest of the wind out of him.

A tall man, dressed all in black, like one of them Special Forces guys...except he had what looked almost like a priest's collar. He pulled off a full face mask to show a hard, angular face. Behind him, a young woman, similarly dressed, but with a nun's habit on her head. Both held high powered rifles, pointed at him.

"_Hey_! What did you psychopaths do to Yoji! If you hurt him, so _help_ me..."

At that moment, Maury heard a familiar voice angrily shouting. He couldn't help but give a momentary grin of relief. A few seconds later, a third goon in black appeared, holding young Yoji by the back of his shirt. The mamodo boy had a kind of cowboy outfit on, with a cow-print vest, denim shorts, a kerchief around his neck, shiny white cowboy boots, and a white cowboy hat. A toy pop-gun hung at his hip.

"You darn _pole cat_! Turn me _loose_! _Turn me loose_! Maury! Are you _okay_? They didn't hurt you none, did they?" Yoji's chubby legs kicked frantically, with his boots dangling several feet above the ground. Unceremoniously, the large man holding him dropped him to the ground, prone a few yards away from his friend.

"What's going on here!" the mamodo shouted, "You ain't mamodo...this ain't part of the _game_!"

"_Silence_, demon!" thundered the leader, as a fourth arrival handed him a long, golden staff. "By the decree of the Elders of the Holy Order of St. Bryce the Pure, I, Paladin Sacre, render judgement on the condemned Satanist and Summoner, Maurice Glick"

"_Satanist_? I'm not a Satanist! I'm a _grocer_! This boy isn't somedevil or bogeyman, you _putz_...he's...ah...well, he's not _evil_! Now, knock off all this Dragon's and Dungeon's stuff and help an old man up, eh? I'm tired, and I wanna get to bed."

"Save your words, Infernalist!" Sacre spat, "your guilt is right before us! You _hold_ the Tome! You _claim_ the demon as your familiar! You _work magic_ to bring destruction to our world! The Order has known about your kind for centuries...every hundred years dark magicians start a massive cycle of demonic summonings, and every time the number of summonings increases. We have reason to believe over 330 demons were summoned this cycle. You seek to collapse the very gates of Hell itself! But we shall _oppose_ you...and _purge_ your demonic taint from this world!"

"Demonic taint! Kid, I have a bad back and chronic heartburn..._that's it_! Hey...what are you doing! Now, _now_..."

Maury looked up in shock as the man raised the staff over his head. Yoji screamed and crawled over, grabbed the man's boot, and made to reach for his pop-gun. He received a powerful kick under the jaw for his trouble, and tumbled head-over-heels backward, his cowboy hat flying off. One of the others grabbed his gun, just in case it proved more than a mere toy. With a look of determination, Paladin Sacre slammed the end of the staff onto Maury's chest.

Pale blue lightning seemed to race up and down his body. He screamed in pain and his body arched upward. Yoji screamed as well, reaching out to his friend. After a few moments, Sacre removed the staff. Smoke rose slowly from Maury's still body. Yoji wailed pitiously and crawled over to his partner.

"NO! Oh, _no_! _You didn't have to do that_! It wasn't his fault! He didn't even know anything about this 'til I found him! You could have just done it to _me_! You could have just _destroyed the book_! He was a nice man! He was my...my_ friend_!" tears streamed down his freckled face as the Paladin stepped forward.

"Be gone, demon!"

Once again blue light flashed through the forest, as an unearthly scream echoed through the night. The tan-colored tome, lying forgotten, began to glow and fade, tattering at the edges in a heatless, noiseless flame. With a snear of disgust, Sacre slammed the staff once again, this time onto the book, causing it to explode outward and vaporize.

"Call Reverend Mother," Sacre growled back to his subordinates. "Tell her the exorcism was a success, and inquire if she has our next mission ready."

***317***


	3. Small Acts of Vandalism

_Figure a short update was better than no update! Happy holidays to all!_

* * *

"_**Aagaru!**_"

Checho's eyes sparkled for an instant, then his whole face and unfurled neck-fringe flashed a brilliant blue-white, launching a very wide beam directly at Bellalani. In addition to being wide, it was also very quick. Though she tried to dodge it, the edge of it gave her a good, hard clip, sending her spinning down to the ground.

"'_Lani_!" Cade yelled, turning his back on his opponents and starting to run in her direction.

"Uh...uh...uh! That's just not _done_, my fine _neanderthal_!" Blaine positively beamed with self-satisfaction. Raising the book again, he turned to his companion, "Checho? If you please? Aagaru!"

Like Bellalani, Cade nearly dodged the beam. The blow reminded him of a time in high school, when he had still been on the football team. A particularly powerful tackle had cracked a few of his ribs, tore some muscle, and really knocked the wind out of him...that's what this felt like. A direct hit would have taken him out. As Blaine and Checho chortled away, Cade grimaced and raised himself up on his hands and knees...the book directly under him. Glancing over, he saw that 'Lani had also gotten back in the air. He was pleased to see she looked more pissed-off than scared.

With a nod, she sped quickly in the direction of her foes, her hands out in front of her, with her thumbs and forefingers touching. Cade spoke the words..._Nijiru_!

The mamodo girl's form took on a momentary multi-colored aura before it all rushed to her hands and exploded in a shimmering beam of bright light, filled with multi-colored sparks and flashes. The beam was heading directly into Checho's face. Blaine squeeked and quickly uttered a new spell...

"_Aagasherud_!"

Again, Checho's face and frill glowed blue-white, but this time the glow lifted off of his face, turning translucent and growing a good bit wider but retaining the general shape of face and frill...like a glowing projection of his own face over his real face. The nijiru hit the shield and exploded into a shower of jewel-like sparks. Checho smirked, and his shield smirked along with him. As he moved his head, the shield moved easily as well, always remaining directly over his face and upper body. Cade snarled in frustration, but dove behind a picknick table for some cover. Bellalani glared down at the other mamodo.

"_Checho_! You little _jerk_! I'm really going to enjoy cleaning _your_ clock, mister!"

The demon boy laughed a sibilant laugh, "Hsshsshss...sorry, '_Smellalani_', you're narrow butt is going down! Maybe I'll steal your lunch, too...just for old time's sake!"

The flying girl seethed in anger, and began flying rapidly around the iguana. All Checho had to do was turn in place, his face-shield always between them.

"Your spell is _weak_, princess! I probably didn't even need to block it!"

"Well, you're spell may be bigger, but like you, it doesn't have that much of a punch! Anyone else's spell might have taken me out right there...yours was like being hit with a pillow! A big, soft _pillow_!"

Checho balled his fist and shook it at his foe. Unfortunately, his arms were currently hidden under his neck frill, so she didn't even see it. Gritting his teeth, he spoke to his partner.

"Pillow, eh? Why...I'll show you! Blaine! Again!"

"'_Please_' and '_Thank You_', if you don't mind, my dear boy," Blaine replied, casually.

Checho rolled his eyes, "Please!"

"Aagaru! _Aagaru_! **_Aagaru_**!"

Bellalani dodged the first one completely, the second rapid fire again clipped her wing, but the third was a direct hit, sending her crashing into a nearby hillside, in a cloud of dust and glitter. Cade grabbed a nearby rock, and flung it hard right between Checho's shoulder blades...it connected with a satisfying 'thud'...and even more satisfying scream of pain from the mamodo.

Blaine actually laughed a bit, "Come now, Checho, old bean..._stiff upper lip_! Time to buck up and finish off the enemy! Stop you're _crying_, you big baby!"

A second rock flew forward, but not at Checho. It connected with the windshield of Blaine's car, cracking the glass like a giant spider's web. Blaine's face grew as red as his suit, and tears soon came to his eyes as well...tears of rage!

"Oops! _Sorry_! I was aiming for your_ fat head_!" Cade yelled at the odd duo. His partner momentarily forgotten, they turned their attention on the biker.


End file.
