Through the Looking Glass
Prologue
Less than thirty years after World War one the human race is once again plunged into another civil war. Depression is widespread among the race and tension is at its highest. But their war had not only spread itself across the Human world, but also to the Digital world. The pain felt by the human race gathered together by forces unknown to be released upon them from places only known to them as Hell.
The Nexus world, a place where feelings become reality, where your mind controls what you see and what you are. It fed closely off the emotions of the human world, growing darker each time a life was sacrificed for another humans' own selfish ambitions. The digital world and the Nexus were closely related, and the war raging between the humans had greatly affected both.
During the period the humans called the depression the Nexus world had created monsters and demons formed only by the humans minds and feelings. And once the second war broke out, the demons were released to spread their wrath across the two worlds. Four major demons wreaked havoc among the two worlds, they were referred to as the Dark Angels or Fallen angles; infestations of the human mind.
Because the digital world and Nexus world were closely related the Fallen Angles had shifted their being from the Nexus world to the digital taking on the natural life form as its own. Turning themselves into Digimon. The four Dark angles, Hate, War, Death and Love, each taking a body and becoming a reality corrupting and destroying everything around them.
The council had decided on only one way to save both the human world and the digital world from the selfish humans, and that was themselves. They would select eight such humans, representing their world and to save both. It was hard, the link to the human and Digital worlds was weak since the fall of the Grandure Empire and the humans fall back from civilisation. But their search had been successful and the eight children selected in their resemblance to the seven elements that made up the worlds. The elements of Fire, Lightning, Air, Water, Earth, Light and Darkness.
Each child would be assigned one or two digimon partners, to protect them from the dangers of the digital world, and to help them defeat the Fallen Angels to once again restore the link between the human and digital worlds and to save the humans from themselves. Each would have his or her own digivice and tag and crest closely related to their strongest attribute, to help their digimon partner in protecting them.
The search was not easy, each child having to be a descendant of the royal family of the Grandure Empire or having to have lived in the royal palace at the time of its fall; and each child having to attain the subconscious abilities to travel from the human world to the digital world. But in due time the children were found; each only young and naive to realise the significance of their destinies.
Chapter 1: Faces
Caitlin slowly raised her head as her mother walked into the room, her grey eyes shining with tears that stuck to her eye lashes like dew drops on blades of grass. Her mothers face mirrored hers in grief and sadness, her cheeks taunt and her eyes red and puffy from crying. Her mother slowly walked over to the table Caitlin was hunched over, standing behind her daughters' back, hesitant to speak or move.
Caitlin did not want to remember the reason for her tears; she did not want to remember the reason her mother or sister had locked themselves away, as she had to escape the harsh reality that was life. She could still remember the look, though she wished an eternity she could forget, on the messengers face as he entered their dwelling. They all knew the message that would be delivered but in their minds they all denied the possibility.
"I'm sorry…" Was all he had said as he handed the sealed envelope to her mother, his face and eyes and being sympathetic towards the broken family.
She wondered what it would be like to have that duty. To tell family, friends, children, loved ones their lives had been broken into shards by the relentless battle and no one but themselves were left pick up the pieces. They would have to live the guilt, the pain the tears every day of their lives until the raging battle ceased and the threat of war had disappeared.
She glanced over her shoulder at her mother, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She loved her mother very much, she loved her family now more than ever since the day their fears had reared their ugly faces into their lives. But she could never show it, shied away from the touch, isolated herself from any contact that might mean letting herself out of her shell.
Her mother looked down at her, her face and form depicting grief in all its ways. She wished she could reach out and comfort her in her time of mourning, but what would she have to fall back on when the time came for her to shuffle of this mortal coil? When she died, what comforting hand would she have to lie on her shoulder, sending its warmth through her body to her heart? None but her own, that's why she shied, nothing was forever until it was time for ones soul to depart their body. And the only ones that could comfort her forever were her own faithful tears.
"Caitlin… " Her mother whispered her voice hoarse from crying
Caitlin laid her head down on the table, feeling the cool wood against her warm skin. She was tired, and though she wished to slip off into a never ending sleep, to be bothered no more by the burdens life had on her. Sleep eluded her, reminded her that life was there to be lived through the good and bad times, and that her dreams were not her only escape.
"Caitlin…" Her mother whispered to her again, bringing her from her thoughts and back to the life that had laid itself before her, "Are you alright?"
A pointless question, no she was not alright, it was obvious to anyone around her that her reality had just been turned upside down and everything had tumbled around leaving her confused and frustrated. But she would respond like any other person would, lying through her teeth to satisfy the person on the other side.
"I'm fine." She said back.
It came out colder than she had wanted making her shiver at the icy ring her voice held. She heard her mother sigh and walk slowly out the door, leaving her alone to sink into her thoughts once again. All that time she had wished for an escape from her mind, wanting more than anything to be relieved from the hazy confusion that was her brain, and yet when one had come she had shunned it and retreated back into herself to drift mindlessly through her loss.
She felt tears build up in her eyes again, stinging at them causing more tears to follow. She hated crying, more than anything in the world she hated feeling the wetness that her eyes produced. It made her feel weak, and useless like a child crying over something trivial. People grow out of that, people don't cry, yet she couldn't help the salty drops from falling, staining the table beneath her head once again.
She wanted to escape, wanted sleep to overcome her, encompass her. Take her to an eternity of dreams, of stillness and silence where she would be bothered no more by the tears that slipped from her eyes. She wished to escape from here and drift away with the breeze, never to return. The human race was dammed and it was none other than their own fault, she was going to hell for no other reason than being a part of it so why not want to sleep, to dream?
***
"Sheree you are going to sign up right this minuet and serve your empire."
Sheree shook his head and looked over at his mother from his place at the dinner table. Ever since he had turned fifteen his mother had been ordering him to join the Australian Imperial Forces and fight for a country he had never been to. He had never considered himself British, had never even considered Australia British, yet their men, their only means of defence was being shipped off to some country on the other side of the world to fight for a cause that meant nothing to any of them.
They claimed to be fighting for the empire, to be fighting for their Queen. But he wondered how many of them had actually ever seen their Queen, how many of them had even been to the country they were sacrificing their lives for. It was pointless, everything was pointless, it had happened less than thirty years ago as well, a civil war between the human race. But in the end, he wondered what either side would gain from it; if in that last thirty years any of them had accomplished anything.
"Mother, I've told you before, I will not fight for a pointless cause." Sheree said back raising one slender eyes brow at his brother that pulled faces at him from the corner of his eye
"Pointless? You are fighting for your Queen, you are fighting for…" His mother started before being cut of by him
"Yes, yes I'm fighting for my home country, but mother I've never even been to England. I've never even been out of this town, so if I was to fight, I would fight for nothing more than MY country."
He slowly got to his feet gently lifting his plate off the table, refusing to meet his mothers' furious gaze. He knew he had caught her there; she had no way of defending her argument because what he had said was fact. His father had gone to fight for a worthless cause, demanding his son, when he was of age, to follow in his footsteps. And he normally would have if he didn't feel so negatively towards the whole situation.
"Please excuse me." He said softly stepping out of the dining room into the brightly lit kitchen.
He sat down at the kitchen bench, resting his head in his hands. He knew he would be conscribed to fight for their cause, to plunge his delicate life into battle like so many others had, but he simply could not do it. Fighting was for barbarians like his brother, who had volunteered to take his place in fighting the pointless war. But his brother was naïve; he knew nothing of war and how it worked. It wasn't all pride and glory; it was blood tears and trenches.
He had heard stories of the previous war; his grandfather had come back alive from that one, and what he had said sounded more like hell than any description they gave in church. He had told him so many people had died; their bodies lined the sandy beaches, blood mixing with water to turn it from a once deep serene blue to rich crimson. That in the trenches it was cold, and damp, that your feet were constantly ankle deep in freezing icy water and that the screams of the dying, mixed with the sound of gunfire would never leave ones mind until the day they died.
Sheree glanced at the stream of light that tumbled through the open window. If his mind had not been so clouded by thoughts of the dying and the suffering he would have enjoyed the sight. It made their house brighter almost as if the war had not reached here yet, but if it were so simple he would have had time to enjoy it. He wished that the world could just see how the light shone over them all. To see that no matter how big they thought they were; if that light disappeared they would forever be shrouded in darkness and their wars would all mean nothing.
He just wished they could see the value of a human life, that it was not just a pawn to be used in a mad mans crazy scheme. For them to realise that the Earth revolved around the sun, the bringer of light and darkness and not their puny life. That fighting was not the only way out and that war ships were not the greatest invention in the world.
If they only looked past the grey that shaded their world, they would see a palette of colours; that the only thing printed in black and white was a newspaper. Every human had a separate mind, had experienced something totally different from another and that nothing was the same, as similar as they may look, nothing is ever the same. If only they had not been blinded by their own ambitions, their own goals they might see the world of light that he saw now.
***
Kathryn stared out the sun light window, the rays of golden sunlight reflecting off a single tear that slid down her face. Her face was a mask of her true feelings; it stayed neutral, cold while in her eyes the pain and sorrow shined like a beacon. It had been how many days, weeks even since that single event but she couldn't seem to erase it from her mind. The deaths of so many…
But what had she expected? That she would be safe? That anyone would be safe? It was a war, the world was engaged in a futile conflict, did she really think that no one would die? No she knew people would die, But when the attack had hit so close to home she had realised just how painful war could be. No one in her family had died, and she hoped to god that no one would, but in this war it seemed no one was safe.
She reached her hand up and absently wiped the tear off her cheek. It sat on the tip of her index finger like a small shiny bug, ready to fly off at any moment. She looked at it with keen interest as the suns rays hit it and went flying off in all directions, in all colours. It was like magic, a magic that couldn't be explained. She glanced out the window again at the trees that swayed in the light spring breeze. It was so beautiful and serene, like a scene from a painting, completely opposite to what she felt inside.
She couldn't explain what she felt deep inside her heart, it was a mixture of feelings that switched and turned around in her mind one never staying for long. She felt, sad, sorrow for everything, what the world had become, a battleground for the selfish of the human race. She felt enraged, at those people who thought nothing of a human life, which treated people less than that of slaves, than pawns. She felt happy, happy that no one close to her had died in the recent attack, but then that feeling of sorrow and anger rose again.
She was happy but at what? So many people had died, and were dying at this very moment. And though no one close to her had died that didn't even compare to the sorrow and pity she felt for those people who had family and loved ones die. She could only imagine, for she could never compare, the utter feeling of sorrow those people would have to live with for the rest of their lives on earth. It was heart breaking, and her tears could never make up for the loss the evil had spread.
She felt another tear slip down her face and she wiped it off just as she had with the pervious. She held it up and watched as the spots of coloured light reflected of the clear glass windowpane. It was magic, the way that a single sorrow filled tear could fill the world with colour. If everyone saw the beauty in magic, like the magic of her tear, then for sure people would not want to kill each other.
She wanted to show them, all of the people of this world the magic that she witnessed. If things like magic could prevail in a world shrouded in war and destruction then surely peace could too. One day she wished that all people could see the magic in simple things like nature and love, but that day would not come soon. How long would it take for the whole world to hear of her revelation? And there would still be people whose lives would be shrouded in darkness, who would be blinded to the magic. And that would only lead to war. But she could hope, that one-day people would care again.
***
Dan watched carefully as the palace guard walked slowly from view. He had studied the guards routines carefully, he had only lived in the castle his whole life he had all the time he needed to plan his escape. It wasn't hard; the guards were easily distracted, his father hadn't bothered spending too much time or money on hiring proper guards, though lately, since the beginning of the war the security had become increasingly tight; not enough to keep him in though. He slipped past the gate, careful not be make too much noise and down the path the lead to his freedom.
Some people would give anything to be in his position, he could name about ten off the top of his head. But it wasn't what everyone made it out to be. Sure you had servants attending to your every need, you had fame, money, but what was all that without freedom? Since the war started, though his country was neutral, he was barely able to leave his room without being swamped by guards. And Alan.
He would, in a second give up everything he had to be free. To go where he wanted and to dress, as he wanted. To be what he wanted, instead of having to follow the rules of royalty. He carefully picked his way around the palace garden, he had studied this also, and he knew every little detail, even in the dark. He found himself at the back wall of his fathers' property, a huge brick wall topped with barbed wire and other deadly looking devices.
He tapped carefully on the brick wall, listening for the weakness he knew was there. A small smile crept to his lips as the brick he tapped on released a hollow sound. He pushed lightly on it feeling it shift under his hands; this was it alright. He pushed harder dislodging the brick from its place in the wall and smiled as it fell from the wall with an almost silent thud. He was free now and nothing was going to stop his escape.
"Master Dan."
Dan froze at the sound of the familiar hushed voice, it couldn't be, he had to be imagining it; there was no way he could have found out. Dan took a deep breath and continued his escape, convincing himself that Alan hadn't followed him out here. He knew he was fooling himself though, he could hear his soft breathing behind him. Could hear his boots shuffling on the damp grass, he was caught.
"Master Dan what are you doing?"
Dan spun around to meet Alans' eyes, his own flaring with anger. He didn't have time to deal with him now, he had to escape or he'd go crazy. He wanted freedom, not to be bothered by Alan or any other of the palaces servants, but especially Alan. He was grateful to Alan though; he had been a father figure to him since his own father was much to busy to bother with him. Alan had practically raised him, though he was only a few years older than him, he was more of a father to him than anyone. But he simply couldn't stay here, and if he didn't understand than that was his own problem.
"Alan get back inside, I'm leaving." Dan said forcefully glancing behind Alan to the gate the guard had been watching.
"Master Dan I can't let you do that," Alan protested placing his hands firmly on his hips.
"Alan that was an order, do you dare defy me?" Dan said balling his hands into fists at his sides.
He did not have time for this, the guard would be back any second and if he was caught again he would kill Alan. This would be the fourth time he'd ruined his chance at escape, didn't he see now that this wasn't just some petty rebellion, that he needed space. Dan glanced into Alans' eyes, studying them for a moment. They were pleading, he wanted him to stay, but not all the puppy dog eyes in the world could get him to stay, he was a free soul and he couldn't bare being cooped up here. He wanted more than just being some royal priss for the rest of his life, he wanted… He wasn't sure, but ever since the war started he had become even more agitated, he wanted war.
"Master Dan please come back inside with me." Alan pleaded grabbing Dans arm and tugging at it softly, "I'm only doing this for your own safety."
"Alan how many times do I have to tell you? Get back inside before I have you killed." Dan commanded
"Master Dan how could you have me killed if you're not going to be here?" Alan asked, his emerald eyes glinting in the faint moonlight, showing the slightest hint of mischief.
Dan grumbled low in his throat, half out of frustration and half out of pure anger. He glanced past Alans shoulder once again and caught sight of the guard slowly making his way towards the gate. If he were to see them his plans would be ruined, he couldn't stay another night here; he had to get out. He looked around for an easy escape, or a place to hide but none were available where the guard wouldn't find them eventually. So he did the only thing left.
"Shut up and follow me."
Dan grabbed Alans arm and pulled him through the opening in the wall. He didn't have time to argue with Alan so the only thing to do was to drag him along. It wasn't half bad; at least he wouldn't be totally alone. He leaned against the wall listening carefully for any sounds of the guards, when no one came he glanced once at Alan and started running towards the street.
***
"Master Dan!" Alan called running after Dan.
Sometimes he couldn't understand this boy, he had taken care of him for nearly his whole life, and yet he still managed to surprise him. He was running away again, though Alan had no idea why anyone would want to run away from such a life, many people he knew would give up their lives, their family just for a day in his life, yet he was still unsatisfied.
Dan spun around, one of his fingers pressed against his lips. He grabbed him by the arm and brought him closer to his face.
"Be quiet." He whispered forcefully, "Do you want us to get caught?"
That was exactly what he wanted, he didn't want to be the one responsible for Dan running away, or attempting to run away again; he would be beheaded for sure. He watched Dans back slowly disappear into the foggy streets, he had no other choice, if he reported him as run away they would blame him, not Dan, and if he followed they would blame him so he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. So he followed.
The streets were oddly quiet; usually they would be bustling with nightlife, but tonight was eerily still. He knew it was a result of the war that raged on outside their country, and before that Dan had been perfectly sustainable. Now it was almost as if he itched for war. Alan couldn't see why though, war was a terrible thing; it was what had robbed him of everything that he had known, left him homeless and nearly dead. But he didn't want to dwell on those thoughts, he knew too well from experience that he would likely just sink into that same turn and fall under depressions spell.
They together walked through the deserted streets, through nameless back allies and all of the sorts, neither speaking a word. The tension was too much for Alan to handle, he wanted to say something but the only thing that came to his mind was to tell Dan to turn back. Alan glanced nervously around himself squinting through the thick darkness to find any familiar landscape so he might know where he was, but none came to view.
There was no way he'd live through this, especially when there was a war on and depression had overcome their country, peoples spirits were at an all time low and when humans are cornered they tend to bite. He didn't want to be another victim to one of them street gangs he had heard about. They could possibly have been a rumour, but he didn't like those chances.
"Master Dan, please tell me you're only fooling and turn back now. It is much too dangerous to be out in the streets at this time of night." He pleaded walking faster to keep pace with Dan.
"Alan how many times do I have to tell you, keep quiet or I'll make you, I don't want to be caught again." Dan replied stopping and glaring at Alan.
"But why Master Dan?" Alan asked
He knew he shouldn't be questioning his Master, but he considered Dan more of a close friend, maybe a younger brother more than his Master. Though sometimes it seemed Dan didn't feel that way back, but Alan knew better. Dan was now glaring at him, his eyes sharp and forbidding, normally Alan would have shut up with that look, but he couldn't get in any more trouble than he was already in so it didn't matter anymore.
"Why? Why not?" Dan replied spinning around and shrugging his shoulders, only to turn back and lock his eyes with Alans, "Unlike my father I do not want to spend my whole life cooped up in that disgusting palace! I'd sell my own soul to get out of there; I'm not letting this chance escape me. You can go back if you really want to but don't expect me to listen to you're pleading because I won't. And if you do go back, tell father that I won't miss him at all, that I'll be praying for the day his fat carcass is worm food!"
Dan yelled with a vehemence Alan had never seen in the young man; before he gave him the most vicious glare that could have easily shrivelled the leaves off a tree he stormed off into the darkness of the ally. Alan was speechless to say the least; his mind was working over time trying to process everything that had happened in the last thirty seconds. Dan had never before yelled at anyone like that, not even to that little boy who had broken his favourite wooden sword when he was seven years old.
He considered for only a second turning around and heading back to the palace, but what good would that do him? He was already out here, he was probably already been accused of 'kidnapping' Dan so what was his hurry to return. Then again if he followed – he didn't want to think about it, it was much too confusing. With a shrug of his lithe shoulders Alan briskly followed Dans path down the dark ally way. He had no other choice.
It didn't take long for him to catch up with Dan; he hadn't gotten very far. Alan found him leaning up against a wall, his head bowed and his booted feet tracing patterns in the grimy city streets. He could hear the familiar noise of the city now that they had travelled further into the streets. And he was even more scared to say the least. This was where all the city scum hung out, he certainly didn't want to die by the hands of these dirty street rats, but Dan didn't seem to mind.
"I'm sorry about that Alan, I just got so mad." Dan apologised refusing to meet Alan's eyes
"That's okay Master Dan, but why were you mad in the first place?" He replied innocently
"I don't know, I've always hated my father you know that much Alan, but lately, well ever since the war started actually, I just cant stand being cooped up in that stupid palace. I just want to experience what I'm always missing out on."
"Master, may I speak frankly?" Alan asked catching the boys' attention
"Go ahead…" Dan replied raising his head to peer into Alans' eyes
"War is not everything Master Dan; it's disgusting to say the least. Do you really want to the burden of so many innocent peoples lives on your shoulders? Can you handle the thought of the bloodied battlefield haunting you until your very last days? Do you really want to involve yourself in something that will cause so much pain and loss for so many people? You dare not…?"
"But that's just it Alan!" Dan replied throwing his hands in the air, "For some reason, I know not why, but yes! Yes I want to kill people, I want to ruin every ones lives; I want to destroy acres of land just so I can shoot down another few German soldiers! I want battle!"
Alan stepped back from the younger boy fear covering his features. Master Dan had gone insane! There was no doubt about it in Alans mind, his master had gone off the deep end and there was nothing he could do to bring him back. He had barely noticed the change, not too long ago he had been perfectly sane, but now he was craving for war like a sailor craves for the sea after spending a night on land. But maybe he had blown things out of proportion, Alan could have never wished for anything less than peace, while Dan believed that War was his ultimate destiny.
***
Feis' body shook with tears as she rocked back and forth against the stark white walls of the fort. War had claimed another young girls innocence, as it had done so many times before. Each rock of her shaking body sent her spine rolling uncomfortably along the plaster wall, but she didn't notice over the undeniable fit of sobs that claimed her at that moment.
She couldn't remember how long ago she had started crying, or how long she could continue. It would seem at some point she might run out of tears, that her body would simply give in and stop. But hour after hour passed and the tears only got worse. She couldn't bare it any longer, she wished she could sink into the walls and never again exist in the cruel war ridden world. But if only it were so simple…
She didn't remember much of what had happened, but she remembered the fear. She remembered ice cold fear run through her veins and sting her heart like a thousand knives. And she remembered the grief, the blood, it was unbearable to think of, and it also brought the tears. She knew she could never forget, for as long as she had a brain in her head she could never forget what she had witnessed.
She wanted nothing more than to remove those memories from her mind and live as if none of it had happened, but it repeated in her head until she felt she would simply break. It had come so suddenly, the blood, she barely had time to collect her thoughts before her sister was pushing her away, diverting her eyes. That's didn't stop her from looking, though she hated herself for it now, but what she had seen no living being should ever have to witness in their lives.
It was a perfect day to say the least, the threat of the invading Japanese had always drifted in the backs of their minds, but none of them were really prepared for what was to come. It had happened so fast, like lightning hitting a tree, the sirens had been sounded. That moment fear had pricked at her heart, but she had dismissed it as nothing but a practice drill, as had the rest of her family. What fools they had been.
In less than a few minuets their perfect day had come crashing down around them like an avalanche. She had glanced out her window on the second floor of their apartment building and what she saw at that moment was more horrifying than death itself. The Japanese had invaded Hong Kong with such ease, there was nothing their troops could do.
Her mother had rushed them downstairs into the basement of the building, only moments before the Japanese soldiers had infiltrated the building. They and a few others had been lucky enough to escape, but they couldn't have stayed down there for long. They had waited for what seemed like hours, like days, until the commotion outside had settled.
Slowly they had emerged from the hold, only to find themselves confronting their bringer of death. She remembered so clearly what his face had looked like, the soldier. He looked like any other Japanese man, greasy black hair and taunt rough cheeks. But his eyes she would never forget, they looked normal from anyone else's point of view, but there was a malicious glint that only she and her fellow captors could see.
She didn't remember much of what had happened after that, she had sunk so deep into her fear that everything else was irrelevant, meaningless. She didn't remember anything of what had happened to her mother, only that she wasn't with her now, and that she probably never would be. She had woken up here, in the last standing providence of Hong Kong, Stanley fort. They were losing the war, and there was nothing she could do now but weep.
She wondered what it was all for, why she must suffer, why her family must suffer. They hadn't done anything to upset the Japanese, why did they invade their home and destroy her life until she couldn't tell what it had once been? The sun was rising again, from the east. The same place their destructors had come from, and she wondered why? All she had left now was the undying fire of hope that burned in her heart, the fact that one day everything might turn normal again, that this would all be forgotten in the sands of time. But was hope really enough?
***
It was cold here; it was always cold. The walls were cold, the floor was cold; her fingers were cold, as was her heart. She stared out the window, it seemed that was the only thing she could do, stare and dream of places where the cold ice melted into water. It was raining, it hadn't stopped since she had come here, the light pitter patter of the rain on the roof tiles reminded her just how cold everything was. She ran her hand down the foggy glass window, tracing the pattern of a raindrop that had once existed, once had graced the glass with all its crystalline beauty. But what had become of that raindrop now?
She had heard that woman say that it would join something bigger, a puddle, a pond, an ocean; it would be reunited with its brothers engulfing, dominating their small part of the world. That's what they had said about Them as well. She felt a rush of emotion run through her, she could stop these overwhelming rushes of melancholy; it was only natural, part of the grieving period they would say, but she wondered just how much they knew.
She sighed, hoping that single action would release her of her problems, but her exhale of breath had cleared nothing but her lungs. She saw their faces everywhere she went, around every corner, through every window, in ever mirror they were there haunting her with their memories. It wasn't fair. She had heard once that all was fair in love and war, but what happened to the innocent? What happened to the ones stuck in the middle of the crossfire? What happened to those that tried so hard for nothing? A plaque in a memorial park? Is that all that would become of them?
She frowned and turned away from the window, it was too painful, the rain, the lightning, it all reminded her too much of Them. She glanced around the small brick room. It was wet and cold and miserable, like her in every possible way. And she couldn't help but remember why; and when these memories would leave her. They have, so easily their fragile lives had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind. When she was younger she had never thought, even in her wildest nightmares that they would ever leave her. They were always supposed to be there, to protect her, to love her, to tell her everything was going to be alright, even when it wasn't. But they were gone, and what for?
She could still she their faces, mother, father, they were always so kind. Father was a wealthy General, he'd do anything for his little girl, even sacrifice his life. Mother, a pretty petite nurse, wanting more than anything to see her precious child grow up and become a mother herself. Such innocence should never be destroyed, such simple loving people they had been. So why? Why did fate play these cruel tricks on them? Why did destiny laugh in their naive faces and tell them it was all over?
Star scoffed at the window, at the rain, at the world outside her cold dark prison. She hated it, everything. Her parents, her prison, her world. It didn't make sense that something so pure and perfect could be destroyed so easily. Didn't they always say that peace and light would prevail? It worked in the books and the movies, so why didn't it work in real life? Because they lied, it was as simple as that; they were liars, every last one of them. The light never prevailed, look what had happened to their world. War, war and more war, it never ended did it? War and depression, they were all that were left, there was no hope, no beauty and love. Just hate.
She wanted to believe, wanted so bad for her innocence to be returned to her. She didn't want to grow up, to face the darkness. It was too much, and with not a soul to guide her, alone. She hated her parents, hated them with everything that she had. They left her here; they were the ones who died on her, leaving her in this cold, wet prison. Yes, that was hate, but she also loved them so much. She missed them, wanted more than anything else in the world to her their voices. When they were alive the world had light, it had meaning, it had life, beauty and love. Why did it have to change? It was all that she had ever wanted, love and beauty. All she was left with now was her icy cold heart and her wet tears.
***
Kyle stared up into the fading light of the twilight sky. It was beautiful, at least that was the way his mother saw it. Of course he couldn't see it anymore his eyes were so clouded by images, lies. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. He had promised them glory, had promised them wealth, had promised them the world. Yet now that she was gone all those promises, all those hopes and dreams had fallen-- Died. What was the point of living if there was nothing left to live for?
He sighed and shut his eyes tightly trying to relieve himself of the lies that clouded his vision, and the bright stinging truth that shone through them. It hurt, more than anything he had felt in his short painful life. It hurt like needles and knives gouging out his heart and leaving it to bleed itself dry. He was helpless, lost, frightened, but most of all hurt. How could he lie to them? How could he let her down? How could he let this happen to them? After all the promises, after all the pain and poverty, how could he let her die like that?
He couldn't think like that, Hitler was great wasn't he? He was bringing them out of all of that, out of the pain and the filth. Wasn't he? He was the only light that their country had seen since the first war, he was their beacon of hope he was their saviour. Wasn't he? If it weren't for him they would still be the filthy underdogs that everyone else had perceived them as. He had given them something to believe in, given them the hope that they had needed to see them through the times that had passed. He was great, wasn't he?
But if he were great wouldn't she still be alive? If he were great, wouldn't she be able to see the beautiful bountiful country she had known from birth? His mother had loved this country, had loved it more than anything. And to see it the way their country had been only two years ago had broken her heart. She had wanted nothing more than too see once again the great and fair land it had been so many years ago. And he said he could show that to her, he said he could show them all the country they had believed in and wished for, for so many long years. He had said a lot of things that had never come true, but she had believed in him, trusted him, and now she was gone.
It was things like that that made Kyle so incredibly frustrated. It wasn't supposed to work like that. She was supposed to live and he was supposed to lead them to a land that they had only ever dreamed of. He was supposed to lead them to glory and fame and riches. She was gone now though, and none of that mattered, the fame, the glory, the riches; none of that was relevant anymore. Everything of significance had dwindled away and all that remained was the simple, two sided shape. Life and death.
You lived or you died, it was simple. If you lived, you would see the lies and the betrayal. If you died, may god have mercy on your soul. She had died she was one of the lucky ones, free from the lies and the horrible relentless truth. Yet he had lived and he fought for a cause he had long ago forgotten. And he waited for the day that he would finally perish. To be reunited with her after so long, to finally be able to tell her everything he had wanted to say. That was his dream and he would give anything to accomplish it. So he fought. Not because he felt obliged to, nor to save his country. He cared little for those trivial matters anymore. The only thing still keeping him together being the everlasting hope that one day he would again see her face and hear her heavenly voice.
But he wasn't ready to give up everything for that, not just yet. There was still much to do, still so much to experience. If she couldn't see the land she had yearned for, then he would. He would live and when he finally found her he would tell her that he had lived to see. She would be so happy, she lived to make him happy and he her. He lived for death, he was a contradiction unto himself. If anyone should hear his story they would surely think him insane, but it made perfect sense to him. He lived for death. There was nothing else to live for everything else had died, perished in the war. If he could only see her face then it would make living worth the effort. He lived for death.
***
Authors notes: I know, yes you don't have to tell me anything. It doesn't make sense, hell it doesn't even have anything to do with digimon– At all! But this story, and take my word, has a very slow start. It will one day in the far off futures have a story line, but until then be patient. And another warning to all those that read this, it will feature the original digigang very little or not at all. I haven't yet made up my mind. This is merely a story for interested reader with nothing to do and a lot of time on their hands. Yes there is self insertion, but be warned, this is not what I am like in real life. To tell the truth I have no idea how the hell I would cope back then and would not like to find out too soon. Anyway stay tuned for more, even if it comes months away, which it probably will. Make sense?
Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon or any related characters. This is a fan creation and no money is being made from this. All the main characters are, however, mine. As if the story line and concept.
Prologue
Less than thirty years after World War one the human race is once again plunged into another civil war. Depression is widespread among the race and tension is at its highest. But their war had not only spread itself across the Human world, but also to the Digital world. The pain felt by the human race gathered together by forces unknown to be released upon them from places only known to them as Hell.
The Nexus world, a place where feelings become reality, where your mind controls what you see and what you are. It fed closely off the emotions of the human world, growing darker each time a life was sacrificed for another humans' own selfish ambitions. The digital world and the Nexus were closely related, and the war raging between the humans had greatly affected both.
During the period the humans called the depression the Nexus world had created monsters and demons formed only by the humans minds and feelings. And once the second war broke out, the demons were released to spread their wrath across the two worlds. Four major demons wreaked havoc among the two worlds, they were referred to as the Dark Angels or Fallen angles; infestations of the human mind.
Because the digital world and Nexus world were closely related the Fallen Angles had shifted their being from the Nexus world to the digital taking on the natural life form as its own. Turning themselves into Digimon. The four Dark angles, Hate, War, Death and Love, each taking a body and becoming a reality corrupting and destroying everything around them.
The council had decided on only one way to save both the human world and the digital world from the selfish humans, and that was themselves. They would select eight such humans, representing their world and to save both. It was hard, the link to the human and Digital worlds was weak since the fall of the Grandure Empire and the humans fall back from civilisation. But their search had been successful and the eight children selected in their resemblance to the seven elements that made up the worlds. The elements of Fire, Lightning, Air, Water, Earth, Light and Darkness.
Each child would be assigned one or two digimon partners, to protect them from the dangers of the digital world, and to help them defeat the Fallen Angels to once again restore the link between the human and digital worlds and to save the humans from themselves. Each would have his or her own digivice and tag and crest closely related to their strongest attribute, to help their digimon partner in protecting them.
The search was not easy, each child having to be a descendant of the royal family of the Grandure Empire or having to have lived in the royal palace at the time of its fall; and each child having to attain the subconscious abilities to travel from the human world to the digital world. But in due time the children were found; each only young and naive to realise the significance of their destinies.
Chapter 1: Faces
Caitlin slowly raised her head as her mother walked into the room, her grey eyes shining with tears that stuck to her eye lashes like dew drops on blades of grass. Her mothers face mirrored hers in grief and sadness, her cheeks taunt and her eyes red and puffy from crying. Her mother slowly walked over to the table Caitlin was hunched over, standing behind her daughters' back, hesitant to speak or move.
Caitlin did not want to remember the reason for her tears; she did not want to remember the reason her mother or sister had locked themselves away, as she had to escape the harsh reality that was life. She could still remember the look, though she wished an eternity she could forget, on the messengers face as he entered their dwelling. They all knew the message that would be delivered but in their minds they all denied the possibility.
"I'm sorry…" Was all he had said as he handed the sealed envelope to her mother, his face and eyes and being sympathetic towards the broken family.
She wondered what it would be like to have that duty. To tell family, friends, children, loved ones their lives had been broken into shards by the relentless battle and no one but themselves were left pick up the pieces. They would have to live the guilt, the pain the tears every day of their lives until the raging battle ceased and the threat of war had disappeared.
She glanced over her shoulder at her mother, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She loved her mother very much, she loved her family now more than ever since the day their fears had reared their ugly faces into their lives. But she could never show it, shied away from the touch, isolated herself from any contact that might mean letting herself out of her shell.
Her mother looked down at her, her face and form depicting grief in all its ways. She wished she could reach out and comfort her in her time of mourning, but what would she have to fall back on when the time came for her to shuffle of this mortal coil? When she died, what comforting hand would she have to lie on her shoulder, sending its warmth through her body to her heart? None but her own, that's why she shied, nothing was forever until it was time for ones soul to depart their body. And the only ones that could comfort her forever were her own faithful tears.
"Caitlin… " Her mother whispered her voice hoarse from crying
Caitlin laid her head down on the table, feeling the cool wood against her warm skin. She was tired, and though she wished to slip off into a never ending sleep, to be bothered no more by the burdens life had on her. Sleep eluded her, reminded her that life was there to be lived through the good and bad times, and that her dreams were not her only escape.
"Caitlin…" Her mother whispered to her again, bringing her from her thoughts and back to the life that had laid itself before her, "Are you alright?"
A pointless question, no she was not alright, it was obvious to anyone around her that her reality had just been turned upside down and everything had tumbled around leaving her confused and frustrated. But she would respond like any other person would, lying through her teeth to satisfy the person on the other side.
"I'm fine." She said back.
It came out colder than she had wanted making her shiver at the icy ring her voice held. She heard her mother sigh and walk slowly out the door, leaving her alone to sink into her thoughts once again. All that time she had wished for an escape from her mind, wanting more than anything to be relieved from the hazy confusion that was her brain, and yet when one had come she had shunned it and retreated back into herself to drift mindlessly through her loss.
She felt tears build up in her eyes again, stinging at them causing more tears to follow. She hated crying, more than anything in the world she hated feeling the wetness that her eyes produced. It made her feel weak, and useless like a child crying over something trivial. People grow out of that, people don't cry, yet she couldn't help the salty drops from falling, staining the table beneath her head once again.
She wanted to escape, wanted sleep to overcome her, encompass her. Take her to an eternity of dreams, of stillness and silence where she would be bothered no more by the tears that slipped from her eyes. She wished to escape from here and drift away with the breeze, never to return. The human race was dammed and it was none other than their own fault, she was going to hell for no other reason than being a part of it so why not want to sleep, to dream?
***
"Sheree you are going to sign up right this minuet and serve your empire."
Sheree shook his head and looked over at his mother from his place at the dinner table. Ever since he had turned fifteen his mother had been ordering him to join the Australian Imperial Forces and fight for a country he had never been to. He had never considered himself British, had never even considered Australia British, yet their men, their only means of defence was being shipped off to some country on the other side of the world to fight for a cause that meant nothing to any of them.
They claimed to be fighting for the empire, to be fighting for their Queen. But he wondered how many of them had actually ever seen their Queen, how many of them had even been to the country they were sacrificing their lives for. It was pointless, everything was pointless, it had happened less than thirty years ago as well, a civil war between the human race. But in the end, he wondered what either side would gain from it; if in that last thirty years any of them had accomplished anything.
"Mother, I've told you before, I will not fight for a pointless cause." Sheree said back raising one slender eyes brow at his brother that pulled faces at him from the corner of his eye
"Pointless? You are fighting for your Queen, you are fighting for…" His mother started before being cut of by him
"Yes, yes I'm fighting for my home country, but mother I've never even been to England. I've never even been out of this town, so if I was to fight, I would fight for nothing more than MY country."
He slowly got to his feet gently lifting his plate off the table, refusing to meet his mothers' furious gaze. He knew he had caught her there; she had no way of defending her argument because what he had said was fact. His father had gone to fight for a worthless cause, demanding his son, when he was of age, to follow in his footsteps. And he normally would have if he didn't feel so negatively towards the whole situation.
"Please excuse me." He said softly stepping out of the dining room into the brightly lit kitchen.
He sat down at the kitchen bench, resting his head in his hands. He knew he would be conscribed to fight for their cause, to plunge his delicate life into battle like so many others had, but he simply could not do it. Fighting was for barbarians like his brother, who had volunteered to take his place in fighting the pointless war. But his brother was naïve; he knew nothing of war and how it worked. It wasn't all pride and glory; it was blood tears and trenches.
He had heard stories of the previous war; his grandfather had come back alive from that one, and what he had said sounded more like hell than any description they gave in church. He had told him so many people had died; their bodies lined the sandy beaches, blood mixing with water to turn it from a once deep serene blue to rich crimson. That in the trenches it was cold, and damp, that your feet were constantly ankle deep in freezing icy water and that the screams of the dying, mixed with the sound of gunfire would never leave ones mind until the day they died.
Sheree glanced at the stream of light that tumbled through the open window. If his mind had not been so clouded by thoughts of the dying and the suffering he would have enjoyed the sight. It made their house brighter almost as if the war had not reached here yet, but if it were so simple he would have had time to enjoy it. He wished that the world could just see how the light shone over them all. To see that no matter how big they thought they were; if that light disappeared they would forever be shrouded in darkness and their wars would all mean nothing.
He just wished they could see the value of a human life, that it was not just a pawn to be used in a mad mans crazy scheme. For them to realise that the Earth revolved around the sun, the bringer of light and darkness and not their puny life. That fighting was not the only way out and that war ships were not the greatest invention in the world.
If they only looked past the grey that shaded their world, they would see a palette of colours; that the only thing printed in black and white was a newspaper. Every human had a separate mind, had experienced something totally different from another and that nothing was the same, as similar as they may look, nothing is ever the same. If only they had not been blinded by their own ambitions, their own goals they might see the world of light that he saw now.
***
Kathryn stared out the sun light window, the rays of golden sunlight reflecting off a single tear that slid down her face. Her face was a mask of her true feelings; it stayed neutral, cold while in her eyes the pain and sorrow shined like a beacon. It had been how many days, weeks even since that single event but she couldn't seem to erase it from her mind. The deaths of so many…
But what had she expected? That she would be safe? That anyone would be safe? It was a war, the world was engaged in a futile conflict, did she really think that no one would die? No she knew people would die, But when the attack had hit so close to home she had realised just how painful war could be. No one in her family had died, and she hoped to god that no one would, but in this war it seemed no one was safe.
She reached her hand up and absently wiped the tear off her cheek. It sat on the tip of her index finger like a small shiny bug, ready to fly off at any moment. She looked at it with keen interest as the suns rays hit it and went flying off in all directions, in all colours. It was like magic, a magic that couldn't be explained. She glanced out the window again at the trees that swayed in the light spring breeze. It was so beautiful and serene, like a scene from a painting, completely opposite to what she felt inside.
She couldn't explain what she felt deep inside her heart, it was a mixture of feelings that switched and turned around in her mind one never staying for long. She felt, sad, sorrow for everything, what the world had become, a battleground for the selfish of the human race. She felt enraged, at those people who thought nothing of a human life, which treated people less than that of slaves, than pawns. She felt happy, happy that no one close to her had died in the recent attack, but then that feeling of sorrow and anger rose again.
She was happy but at what? So many people had died, and were dying at this very moment. And though no one close to her had died that didn't even compare to the sorrow and pity she felt for those people who had family and loved ones die. She could only imagine, for she could never compare, the utter feeling of sorrow those people would have to live with for the rest of their lives on earth. It was heart breaking, and her tears could never make up for the loss the evil had spread.
She felt another tear slip down her face and she wiped it off just as she had with the pervious. She held it up and watched as the spots of coloured light reflected of the clear glass windowpane. It was magic, the way that a single sorrow filled tear could fill the world with colour. If everyone saw the beauty in magic, like the magic of her tear, then for sure people would not want to kill each other.
She wanted to show them, all of the people of this world the magic that she witnessed. If things like magic could prevail in a world shrouded in war and destruction then surely peace could too. One day she wished that all people could see the magic in simple things like nature and love, but that day would not come soon. How long would it take for the whole world to hear of her revelation? And there would still be people whose lives would be shrouded in darkness, who would be blinded to the magic. And that would only lead to war. But she could hope, that one-day people would care again.
***
Dan watched carefully as the palace guard walked slowly from view. He had studied the guards routines carefully, he had only lived in the castle his whole life he had all the time he needed to plan his escape. It wasn't hard; the guards were easily distracted, his father hadn't bothered spending too much time or money on hiring proper guards, though lately, since the beginning of the war the security had become increasingly tight; not enough to keep him in though. He slipped past the gate, careful not be make too much noise and down the path the lead to his freedom.
Some people would give anything to be in his position, he could name about ten off the top of his head. But it wasn't what everyone made it out to be. Sure you had servants attending to your every need, you had fame, money, but what was all that without freedom? Since the war started, though his country was neutral, he was barely able to leave his room without being swamped by guards. And Alan.
He would, in a second give up everything he had to be free. To go where he wanted and to dress, as he wanted. To be what he wanted, instead of having to follow the rules of royalty. He carefully picked his way around the palace garden, he had studied this also, and he knew every little detail, even in the dark. He found himself at the back wall of his fathers' property, a huge brick wall topped with barbed wire and other deadly looking devices.
He tapped carefully on the brick wall, listening for the weakness he knew was there. A small smile crept to his lips as the brick he tapped on released a hollow sound. He pushed lightly on it feeling it shift under his hands; this was it alright. He pushed harder dislodging the brick from its place in the wall and smiled as it fell from the wall with an almost silent thud. He was free now and nothing was going to stop his escape.
"Master Dan."
Dan froze at the sound of the familiar hushed voice, it couldn't be, he had to be imagining it; there was no way he could have found out. Dan took a deep breath and continued his escape, convincing himself that Alan hadn't followed him out here. He knew he was fooling himself though, he could hear his soft breathing behind him. Could hear his boots shuffling on the damp grass, he was caught.
"Master Dan what are you doing?"
Dan spun around to meet Alans' eyes, his own flaring with anger. He didn't have time to deal with him now, he had to escape or he'd go crazy. He wanted freedom, not to be bothered by Alan or any other of the palaces servants, but especially Alan. He was grateful to Alan though; he had been a father figure to him since his own father was much to busy to bother with him. Alan had practically raised him, though he was only a few years older than him, he was more of a father to him than anyone. But he simply couldn't stay here, and if he didn't understand than that was his own problem.
"Alan get back inside, I'm leaving." Dan said forcefully glancing behind Alan to the gate the guard had been watching.
"Master Dan I can't let you do that," Alan protested placing his hands firmly on his hips.
"Alan that was an order, do you dare defy me?" Dan said balling his hands into fists at his sides.
He did not have time for this, the guard would be back any second and if he was caught again he would kill Alan. This would be the fourth time he'd ruined his chance at escape, didn't he see now that this wasn't just some petty rebellion, that he needed space. Dan glanced into Alans' eyes, studying them for a moment. They were pleading, he wanted him to stay, but not all the puppy dog eyes in the world could get him to stay, he was a free soul and he couldn't bare being cooped up here. He wanted more than just being some royal priss for the rest of his life, he wanted… He wasn't sure, but ever since the war started he had become even more agitated, he wanted war.
"Master Dan please come back inside with me." Alan pleaded grabbing Dans arm and tugging at it softly, "I'm only doing this for your own safety."
"Alan how many times do I have to tell you? Get back inside before I have you killed." Dan commanded
"Master Dan how could you have me killed if you're not going to be here?" Alan asked, his emerald eyes glinting in the faint moonlight, showing the slightest hint of mischief.
Dan grumbled low in his throat, half out of frustration and half out of pure anger. He glanced past Alans shoulder once again and caught sight of the guard slowly making his way towards the gate. If he were to see them his plans would be ruined, he couldn't stay another night here; he had to get out. He looked around for an easy escape, or a place to hide but none were available where the guard wouldn't find them eventually. So he did the only thing left.
"Shut up and follow me."
Dan grabbed Alans arm and pulled him through the opening in the wall. He didn't have time to argue with Alan so the only thing to do was to drag him along. It wasn't half bad; at least he wouldn't be totally alone. He leaned against the wall listening carefully for any sounds of the guards, when no one came he glanced once at Alan and started running towards the street.
***
"Master Dan!" Alan called running after Dan.
Sometimes he couldn't understand this boy, he had taken care of him for nearly his whole life, and yet he still managed to surprise him. He was running away again, though Alan had no idea why anyone would want to run away from such a life, many people he knew would give up their lives, their family just for a day in his life, yet he was still unsatisfied.
Dan spun around, one of his fingers pressed against his lips. He grabbed him by the arm and brought him closer to his face.
"Be quiet." He whispered forcefully, "Do you want us to get caught?"
That was exactly what he wanted, he didn't want to be the one responsible for Dan running away, or attempting to run away again; he would be beheaded for sure. He watched Dans back slowly disappear into the foggy streets, he had no other choice, if he reported him as run away they would blame him, not Dan, and if he followed they would blame him so he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. So he followed.
The streets were oddly quiet; usually they would be bustling with nightlife, but tonight was eerily still. He knew it was a result of the war that raged on outside their country, and before that Dan had been perfectly sustainable. Now it was almost as if he itched for war. Alan couldn't see why though, war was a terrible thing; it was what had robbed him of everything that he had known, left him homeless and nearly dead. But he didn't want to dwell on those thoughts, he knew too well from experience that he would likely just sink into that same turn and fall under depressions spell.
They together walked through the deserted streets, through nameless back allies and all of the sorts, neither speaking a word. The tension was too much for Alan to handle, he wanted to say something but the only thing that came to his mind was to tell Dan to turn back. Alan glanced nervously around himself squinting through the thick darkness to find any familiar landscape so he might know where he was, but none came to view.
There was no way he'd live through this, especially when there was a war on and depression had overcome their country, peoples spirits were at an all time low and when humans are cornered they tend to bite. He didn't want to be another victim to one of them street gangs he had heard about. They could possibly have been a rumour, but he didn't like those chances.
"Master Dan, please tell me you're only fooling and turn back now. It is much too dangerous to be out in the streets at this time of night." He pleaded walking faster to keep pace with Dan.
"Alan how many times do I have to tell you, keep quiet or I'll make you, I don't want to be caught again." Dan replied stopping and glaring at Alan.
"But why Master Dan?" Alan asked
He knew he shouldn't be questioning his Master, but he considered Dan more of a close friend, maybe a younger brother more than his Master. Though sometimes it seemed Dan didn't feel that way back, but Alan knew better. Dan was now glaring at him, his eyes sharp and forbidding, normally Alan would have shut up with that look, but he couldn't get in any more trouble than he was already in so it didn't matter anymore.
"Why? Why not?" Dan replied spinning around and shrugging his shoulders, only to turn back and lock his eyes with Alans, "Unlike my father I do not want to spend my whole life cooped up in that disgusting palace! I'd sell my own soul to get out of there; I'm not letting this chance escape me. You can go back if you really want to but don't expect me to listen to you're pleading because I won't. And if you do go back, tell father that I won't miss him at all, that I'll be praying for the day his fat carcass is worm food!"
Dan yelled with a vehemence Alan had never seen in the young man; before he gave him the most vicious glare that could have easily shrivelled the leaves off a tree he stormed off into the darkness of the ally. Alan was speechless to say the least; his mind was working over time trying to process everything that had happened in the last thirty seconds. Dan had never before yelled at anyone like that, not even to that little boy who had broken his favourite wooden sword when he was seven years old.
He considered for only a second turning around and heading back to the palace, but what good would that do him? He was already out here, he was probably already been accused of 'kidnapping' Dan so what was his hurry to return. Then again if he followed – he didn't want to think about it, it was much too confusing. With a shrug of his lithe shoulders Alan briskly followed Dans path down the dark ally way. He had no other choice.
It didn't take long for him to catch up with Dan; he hadn't gotten very far. Alan found him leaning up against a wall, his head bowed and his booted feet tracing patterns in the grimy city streets. He could hear the familiar noise of the city now that they had travelled further into the streets. And he was even more scared to say the least. This was where all the city scum hung out, he certainly didn't want to die by the hands of these dirty street rats, but Dan didn't seem to mind.
"I'm sorry about that Alan, I just got so mad." Dan apologised refusing to meet Alan's eyes
"That's okay Master Dan, but why were you mad in the first place?" He replied innocently
"I don't know, I've always hated my father you know that much Alan, but lately, well ever since the war started actually, I just cant stand being cooped up in that stupid palace. I just want to experience what I'm always missing out on."
"Master, may I speak frankly?" Alan asked catching the boys' attention
"Go ahead…" Dan replied raising his head to peer into Alans' eyes
"War is not everything Master Dan; it's disgusting to say the least. Do you really want to the burden of so many innocent peoples lives on your shoulders? Can you handle the thought of the bloodied battlefield haunting you until your very last days? Do you really want to involve yourself in something that will cause so much pain and loss for so many people? You dare not…?"
"But that's just it Alan!" Dan replied throwing his hands in the air, "For some reason, I know not why, but yes! Yes I want to kill people, I want to ruin every ones lives; I want to destroy acres of land just so I can shoot down another few German soldiers! I want battle!"
Alan stepped back from the younger boy fear covering his features. Master Dan had gone insane! There was no doubt about it in Alans mind, his master had gone off the deep end and there was nothing he could do to bring him back. He had barely noticed the change, not too long ago he had been perfectly sane, but now he was craving for war like a sailor craves for the sea after spending a night on land. But maybe he had blown things out of proportion, Alan could have never wished for anything less than peace, while Dan believed that War was his ultimate destiny.
***
Feis' body shook with tears as she rocked back and forth against the stark white walls of the fort. War had claimed another young girls innocence, as it had done so many times before. Each rock of her shaking body sent her spine rolling uncomfortably along the plaster wall, but she didn't notice over the undeniable fit of sobs that claimed her at that moment.
She couldn't remember how long ago she had started crying, or how long she could continue. It would seem at some point she might run out of tears, that her body would simply give in and stop. But hour after hour passed and the tears only got worse. She couldn't bare it any longer, she wished she could sink into the walls and never again exist in the cruel war ridden world. But if only it were so simple…
She didn't remember much of what had happened, but she remembered the fear. She remembered ice cold fear run through her veins and sting her heart like a thousand knives. And she remembered the grief, the blood, it was unbearable to think of, and it also brought the tears. She knew she could never forget, for as long as she had a brain in her head she could never forget what she had witnessed.
She wanted nothing more than to remove those memories from her mind and live as if none of it had happened, but it repeated in her head until she felt she would simply break. It had come so suddenly, the blood, she barely had time to collect her thoughts before her sister was pushing her away, diverting her eyes. That's didn't stop her from looking, though she hated herself for it now, but what she had seen no living being should ever have to witness in their lives.
It was a perfect day to say the least, the threat of the invading Japanese had always drifted in the backs of their minds, but none of them were really prepared for what was to come. It had happened so fast, like lightning hitting a tree, the sirens had been sounded. That moment fear had pricked at her heart, but she had dismissed it as nothing but a practice drill, as had the rest of her family. What fools they had been.
In less than a few minuets their perfect day had come crashing down around them like an avalanche. She had glanced out her window on the second floor of their apartment building and what she saw at that moment was more horrifying than death itself. The Japanese had invaded Hong Kong with such ease, there was nothing their troops could do.
Her mother had rushed them downstairs into the basement of the building, only moments before the Japanese soldiers had infiltrated the building. They and a few others had been lucky enough to escape, but they couldn't have stayed down there for long. They had waited for what seemed like hours, like days, until the commotion outside had settled.
Slowly they had emerged from the hold, only to find themselves confronting their bringer of death. She remembered so clearly what his face had looked like, the soldier. He looked like any other Japanese man, greasy black hair and taunt rough cheeks. But his eyes she would never forget, they looked normal from anyone else's point of view, but there was a malicious glint that only she and her fellow captors could see.
She didn't remember much of what had happened after that, she had sunk so deep into her fear that everything else was irrelevant, meaningless. She didn't remember anything of what had happened to her mother, only that she wasn't with her now, and that she probably never would be. She had woken up here, in the last standing providence of Hong Kong, Stanley fort. They were losing the war, and there was nothing she could do now but weep.
She wondered what it was all for, why she must suffer, why her family must suffer. They hadn't done anything to upset the Japanese, why did they invade their home and destroy her life until she couldn't tell what it had once been? The sun was rising again, from the east. The same place their destructors had come from, and she wondered why? All she had left now was the undying fire of hope that burned in her heart, the fact that one day everything might turn normal again, that this would all be forgotten in the sands of time. But was hope really enough?
***
It was cold here; it was always cold. The walls were cold, the floor was cold; her fingers were cold, as was her heart. She stared out the window, it seemed that was the only thing she could do, stare and dream of places where the cold ice melted into water. It was raining, it hadn't stopped since she had come here, the light pitter patter of the rain on the roof tiles reminded her just how cold everything was. She ran her hand down the foggy glass window, tracing the pattern of a raindrop that had once existed, once had graced the glass with all its crystalline beauty. But what had become of that raindrop now?
She had heard that woman say that it would join something bigger, a puddle, a pond, an ocean; it would be reunited with its brothers engulfing, dominating their small part of the world. That's what they had said about Them as well. She felt a rush of emotion run through her, she could stop these overwhelming rushes of melancholy; it was only natural, part of the grieving period they would say, but she wondered just how much they knew.
She sighed, hoping that single action would release her of her problems, but her exhale of breath had cleared nothing but her lungs. She saw their faces everywhere she went, around every corner, through every window, in ever mirror they were there haunting her with their memories. It wasn't fair. She had heard once that all was fair in love and war, but what happened to the innocent? What happened to the ones stuck in the middle of the crossfire? What happened to those that tried so hard for nothing? A plaque in a memorial park? Is that all that would become of them?
She frowned and turned away from the window, it was too painful, the rain, the lightning, it all reminded her too much of Them. She glanced around the small brick room. It was wet and cold and miserable, like her in every possible way. And she couldn't help but remember why; and when these memories would leave her. They have, so easily their fragile lives had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind. When she was younger she had never thought, even in her wildest nightmares that they would ever leave her. They were always supposed to be there, to protect her, to love her, to tell her everything was going to be alright, even when it wasn't. But they were gone, and what for?
She could still she their faces, mother, father, they were always so kind. Father was a wealthy General, he'd do anything for his little girl, even sacrifice his life. Mother, a pretty petite nurse, wanting more than anything to see her precious child grow up and become a mother herself. Such innocence should never be destroyed, such simple loving people they had been. So why? Why did fate play these cruel tricks on them? Why did destiny laugh in their naive faces and tell them it was all over?
Star scoffed at the window, at the rain, at the world outside her cold dark prison. She hated it, everything. Her parents, her prison, her world. It didn't make sense that something so pure and perfect could be destroyed so easily. Didn't they always say that peace and light would prevail? It worked in the books and the movies, so why didn't it work in real life? Because they lied, it was as simple as that; they were liars, every last one of them. The light never prevailed, look what had happened to their world. War, war and more war, it never ended did it? War and depression, they were all that were left, there was no hope, no beauty and love. Just hate.
She wanted to believe, wanted so bad for her innocence to be returned to her. She didn't want to grow up, to face the darkness. It was too much, and with not a soul to guide her, alone. She hated her parents, hated them with everything that she had. They left her here; they were the ones who died on her, leaving her in this cold, wet prison. Yes, that was hate, but she also loved them so much. She missed them, wanted more than anything else in the world to her their voices. When they were alive the world had light, it had meaning, it had life, beauty and love. Why did it have to change? It was all that she had ever wanted, love and beauty. All she was left with now was her icy cold heart and her wet tears.
***
Kyle stared up into the fading light of the twilight sky. It was beautiful, at least that was the way his mother saw it. Of course he couldn't see it anymore his eyes were so clouded by images, lies. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. He had promised them glory, had promised them wealth, had promised them the world. Yet now that she was gone all those promises, all those hopes and dreams had fallen-- Died. What was the point of living if there was nothing left to live for?
He sighed and shut his eyes tightly trying to relieve himself of the lies that clouded his vision, and the bright stinging truth that shone through them. It hurt, more than anything he had felt in his short painful life. It hurt like needles and knives gouging out his heart and leaving it to bleed itself dry. He was helpless, lost, frightened, but most of all hurt. How could he lie to them? How could he let her down? How could he let this happen to them? After all the promises, after all the pain and poverty, how could he let her die like that?
He couldn't think like that, Hitler was great wasn't he? He was bringing them out of all of that, out of the pain and the filth. Wasn't he? He was the only light that their country had seen since the first war, he was their beacon of hope he was their saviour. Wasn't he? If it weren't for him they would still be the filthy underdogs that everyone else had perceived them as. He had given them something to believe in, given them the hope that they had needed to see them through the times that had passed. He was great, wasn't he?
But if he were great wouldn't she still be alive? If he were great, wouldn't she be able to see the beautiful bountiful country she had known from birth? His mother had loved this country, had loved it more than anything. And to see it the way their country had been only two years ago had broken her heart. She had wanted nothing more than too see once again the great and fair land it had been so many years ago. And he said he could show that to her, he said he could show them all the country they had believed in and wished for, for so many long years. He had said a lot of things that had never come true, but she had believed in him, trusted him, and now she was gone.
It was things like that that made Kyle so incredibly frustrated. It wasn't supposed to work like that. She was supposed to live and he was supposed to lead them to a land that they had only ever dreamed of. He was supposed to lead them to glory and fame and riches. She was gone now though, and none of that mattered, the fame, the glory, the riches; none of that was relevant anymore. Everything of significance had dwindled away and all that remained was the simple, two sided shape. Life and death.
You lived or you died, it was simple. If you lived, you would see the lies and the betrayal. If you died, may god have mercy on your soul. She had died she was one of the lucky ones, free from the lies and the horrible relentless truth. Yet he had lived and he fought for a cause he had long ago forgotten. And he waited for the day that he would finally perish. To be reunited with her after so long, to finally be able to tell her everything he had wanted to say. That was his dream and he would give anything to accomplish it. So he fought. Not because he felt obliged to, nor to save his country. He cared little for those trivial matters anymore. The only thing still keeping him together being the everlasting hope that one day he would again see her face and hear her heavenly voice.
But he wasn't ready to give up everything for that, not just yet. There was still much to do, still so much to experience. If she couldn't see the land she had yearned for, then he would. He would live and when he finally found her he would tell her that he had lived to see. She would be so happy, she lived to make him happy and he her. He lived for death, he was a contradiction unto himself. If anyone should hear his story they would surely think him insane, but it made perfect sense to him. He lived for death. There was nothing else to live for everything else had died, perished in the war. If he could only see her face then it would make living worth the effort. He lived for death.
***
Authors notes: I know, yes you don't have to tell me anything. It doesn't make sense, hell it doesn't even have anything to do with digimon– At all! But this story, and take my word, has a very slow start. It will one day in the far off futures have a story line, but until then be patient. And another warning to all those that read this, it will feature the original digigang very little or not at all. I haven't yet made up my mind. This is merely a story for interested reader with nothing to do and a lot of time on their hands. Yes there is self insertion, but be warned, this is not what I am like in real life. To tell the truth I have no idea how the hell I would cope back then and would not like to find out too soon. Anyway stay tuned for more, even if it comes months away, which it probably will. Make sense?
Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon or any related characters. This is a fan creation and no money is being made from this. All the main characters are, however, mine. As if the story line and concept.