DRAGON BALLS

Ender. His plight was tragic. Enslaved, forced to the whims of those who would use his power for cruelty, and evil. He wasn't going to have any of it. He sympathized with the man's pain and anguish; to a different extent but it was all the same in the end.  He was hurting. He had lost, and was afraid to lose more. It was written all over his face. Vale couldn't let that go. Not after everything he had been through. Evil people doing evil things. It hurts. Kills.

Taking a deep breath, he'd move into the lookout's hidden antechamber. Walking to the eastern stone wall, he'd press in a brick, and the wall would fall away from the brick revealing a drawer neatly inserted into the wall. With a firm tug, a cast would appear. It was spherical cast, with an odd aura about it. There was no mistaking what it was, for those who were in the know.

The previous guardian had destroyed them. But left behind means to create them anew. And that was exactly what Vale had planned to do. But first, he needed some components. Stones. Large stones, of similar shapes. But he had prepared these in advance. They were scattered around the antechamber in random spots. Not next to each other. As were they, anyone to find them may notice that each and every single one of the 7 stones were identical, in every way.

Hoisting them up, he'd walk them to a stone table, positioned near the epicenter of the room, dropping the cast into place. While the cost to make them weren't high, it would impose a risk. They could be used for evil, just as they could be used for good. So a password would be required. Less someone with ill intent uses them. He would have to think of a password whilst creating them of course.

Popping one of the stones in place, he would shut the cast firmly and press both hands to the surface. Closing his eyes, he would meticulously, and slowly force his energy, and some of his vitality into it. They needed to have a life of their own. So he figured some of his own life force would suffice. Not a lot. But even if there wasn't a bunch in each ball, when all 7 were gathered it would be enough.

Each ball would have a star on them, to signify how much energy was inside each individual one. And while you may be able to do some basic magic with a single one of them, you would require all 7 to do what he had in mind.

After 1 day, and a good amount of fatigue he had finished creating one of them. Opening the cast, a vibrant light would fill the room before dying down into a dull glimmer. A crystaline sphere, of an odd firey apricot color had materialized in place of the dull gray stone. It was see-through, but you could only see so much from beyond the sphere. Picking it up gently, he'd place it to the floor beside him.

Repeating his process over and over again, he'd continue crafting the balls. Every star past the first would require him spend more energy, and an additional day. Culminating to a full 28 days, nearly a month of constant work. Isolated. Alone. Nervous for the future he may wrought upon his planet. But. They needed this. They were needed more than anything right now. It could be a turning point. Freeing that Saiyan. Letting him leave. It would put a dent in Snow's army for sure. But he could only free him.

How he escaped was up to him.

After putting the 7 balls together, he'd hoist them up and carry them outside. Pulling free a snow globe from a satchel. There was a stone chinese dragon inside of it. Putting his palm onto the globe, he'd force a vast amount of energy into it. Though he was but a human. He was only capable of infusing it with the power of... A single wish. Every year. These dragon balls would come alive, animating from their stone shape, into the beautiful orbs before him. And would grant a single wish to those who found them.

If they knew the password. It would require a simple phrase. In his village's tongue. Which only he knew, as they were all but extinct at this point. Taking a step away from the snow globe, and dragon balls he'd speak aloud.

A guttural broken voice would slip from the older male's mouth, in a language forgotten in most part by the world.  "ARISE SHENRON!" he'd exclaim, his arms birthed wide.