- Prologue: The Sealing -
Several hundred years ago...
It had been three days since he had last seen the sun. A cold wind tousled his fur as he stood at the edge of a cliff. From below him resounded clangs of steel upon steel, a testament to the frothing melee that he was observing. Color flashed like fireworks amidst the combatants; although, they made for a very poor light show.
The paw resting on the hilt of his sword curled tightly around the two-handed grip. Some of his comrades relished in the glory of battle, seeking ever-higher pedestals of fame constructed from the blood of the deceased. He found no joy, no satisfaction, in waging war.
Yet it had to be done.
Behind him came the sound of pounding feet and heavy breathing. He lowered his gaze to his sword and purposefully loosed his grip. It would do him no favors to waver in his focus now.
"General Lukes, sir! The Fallen have advanced along the eastern ridge and plan to flank us at the pass," a messenger reported, standing at attention.
The general lifted his eyes to the messenger, a young scyther no more than fourteen. Pokémon like him had little idea as to why they were fighting. They should have been at their homes with their families. All kids like him never returned from battle.
Inhaling deeply, the general concentrated on the situation at hand. Never in his life had he needed more of himself than he could give. To falter in his purpose would cost him the lives of thousands.
"Tell General Baxter that he must divert his units to the eastern ridge for support," he ordered.
When the messenger had departed, Lukes removed his paw from his sword. With one final, lingering examination of the battlefield, he smoothly marched down from the cliff to the western ridgeline. At the base of the cliff, an audino waited for him.
"Lukes," she said, breaking formality, "are you sure your idea is going to work?"
With a smile that seemed to carry the weight of the world, he laid both of his paws on both of hers. "Eve, it will work."
Tears welled in Eve's eyes. She flipped her palms upward and squeezed Lukes's paws. Lukes returned the gesture twofold. An eternity of silence stretched between them before Lukes finally released Eve's paws.
"Now, you'll have to excuse me. I must attend a long overdue appointment," Lukes whispered.
Leaving Eve alone on the ridge, he ventured to the north, skirting the cliffside. His sword clacked against his side, debilitating his movements. Knowing that he would have no future need for it, he unbuckled it from his waist and tossed it over the edge. As it fell, its finely-honed blade tumbled out of its sheath. The immaculate steel dully glinted as it plunged deep into the earth below.
Lukes resumed his trek. Upon reaching a tunnel on his left, he ducked inside of it and dropped down into an underpass. He would be concealed from the enemy in this passage long enough to reach his destination.
The next few moments of his life would be the most crucial of them all. Perhaps he should not have discarded his sword.
Near the end of the underpass, light shone down from a hole above him. Scaling a small rock wall, he emerged from the hole. A cold breeze rushed past him, chilling him through his fur. He stood atop the hill at one end of the battlefield. On the other side, at the end of the valley, a brown stone fortress loomed from the mountainside. Its once-stoic appearance had been partially reduced to rubble, and cracks had formed all throughout the remainder of its façade.
In the near distance, a small portion of his army peeled off from the main battle and advanced toward the eastern ridge. The messenger had traveled at a remarkable speed to reach that section of the valley so quickly and had a keen eye to be able to spot General Baxter so swiftly. Perhaps he would survive the war after all.
With a final sigh, Lukes stepped away from his vantage point and delved into a copse of trees behind him. Brushing past branches and bushes, he arrived in a small clearing. He strode calmly into the center of it and closed his eyes.
A rustle, barely audible, rang loudly in his ears. In the blink of an eye, lightning sparked from his fur to the origin of the noise. A sharp crack followed, and a fearow tumbled from a tree, its fur smoking where the lightning had struck it.
Immediately, a host of pokémon leapt from the treetops and landed on the edge of the clearing. They growled and screeched at Lukes, prowling around him in circles. Neither side made a move. Lukes still kept his eyes closed.
Suddenly, a figure sprang out from the top of a thick, sturdy oak. A black cloak completely obscured his physique, save for the claws that protruded from the sleeves. Soundlessly, the figure landed in front of Lukes.
"This is the moment where the great champion Lukes finally is vanquished,"the figure uttered. His tenor voice, ringing with a twisted echo, made the very air quiver.
Lukes's eyes remained closed. A low vibration hummed in the air—a growl from the figure—, and his claws ignited in fierce orange flames. He raised his incendiary claws and advanced toward the general.
The corners of Lukes's mouth tilted upward knowingly. "You should have watched your feet more than the sky, Shroud," he reprimanded.
Shroud halted in confusion, his claws lowering slightly. Lukes's eyes snapped open, and his tail slammed into the ground. The orb at the end of it glowed, and complex runes appeared on the ground. A white light began to pour from them, blasting away the surrounding pokémon except for Lukes and Shroud.
Shroud exclaimed in surprise, spinning to examine the network of runes around him. The humming sound resumed, much angrier in tone.
"What have you done?!"he roared. The flames on his claws extinguished.
"I have done what is necessary," Lukes replied.
A high-pitched, continuous whistle sounded softly in the air. Shroud roared again and leapt at Lukes. In the instant before the attack connected, Lukes reached up with his arms and grabbed Shroud's own. Deadlocked, the two pushed against each other, one desperate, one resolute.
"You're a fool,"Shroud said, shoving Lukes back a step. "This spell will kill you!"
"A price worth paying," Lukes replied, pushing Shroud back two steps. His composure had yet to be broken. Any lingering doubts of his had vanished.
Like creeping vines, tendrils of light snaked out of the ground and around the combatant's ankles. As they continued to struggle, the light crawled higher up their bodies, its rate increasing with every passing second.
Shroud's rage only continued to mount higher. "This spell will not last forever, Lukes. You are only delaying the inevitable."
The light had now reached Lukes's chin. Light glowed from under Shroud's cowl, and Lukes turned his face away from the horrid sight that greeted him.
"I know. It was never really my place, anyway," he said back.
The light encased them fully. An unearthly wail of agony rocked the air, painfully assailing Lukes's eardrums. Though he felt the same agony, not a single sound escaped his lips. The only indicator of his emotions was the single tear that rolled down his cheek.
With a flash, the two pokémon dissipated into a twin balls of light. They hovered in the air for a moment; then, they burst into a flurry of glowing orbs and slammed into the ground. A new rune appeared in the center of the network, and the surrounding area was enveloped in an explosion of heat and light. When the light died, not a single living thing remained on the mountaintop.
Many years passed. Young saplings sprouted from the ashes and matured into majestic oaks and towering conifers. Pokémon scampered amidst the undergrowth and fluttered from tree to tree. A gentle, yet cool breeze wafted through the now-ancient forest, lightly stirring the budding branches. Spring has almost arrived, and life had begun to arouse in prospect of it.
Nature had eradicated all signs of that debacle of so long ago, yet it had failed to eradicate the ancient scorch marks of those forsaken runes. No creature had dared to set a foot on them, and flying pokémon purposefully adjusted their courses to avoid passing over them.
One zigzagoon tiptoed close to those taboo brands. Its nose twitched as it sniffed the air around them. Suddenly, a cold, winter wind blew through the area, alarming the zigzagoon. It scampered off in fear.
The wind only grew stronger. As it raged through the trees, the earth tremored. For a second, the runes seemed to glow. Then, all felt silent.
Aewynessa presents...
~ The Divine Chronicles ~
THE LAST HEIR
