The Northern Kingdom

Part One: Igamon

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Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Digimon, all related characters, merchandise, and money, do not belong to me. The plot of this story, however, does. In short, don't steal, don't sue. Don't forget to moo.

PLEASE NOTE: This is story number SIX in a series. If you don't understand what's going on, please go start at The Dark Bandit, and go from there, and don't waste time leaving reviews complaining about how you don't understand what's going on. I welcome new readers, but it's sort of difficult to jump in to this now.

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The sun was sinking, casting an orange glow over the vast field of tea leaves. A small cart filled with at least a hundred baskets of leaves sat at the edge of the field, hitched to a lone Monochromon. The evening was quiet, with only the insects making noise. At the edge of the cart, in the one empty space, a boy sat, watching the sunset.

"It's nearly dark now," he called into the fields. "Shouldn't we go…?"

"Yeah," Daisuke agreed, emerging from between the lush green plants. "I can't see anymore."

"About time," V-mon mumbled lazily from the back of the cart where he lay amidst the baskets, half asleep. Agumon, partner of Shijo, lay near him, snoring quietly as he'd been doing all day.

Without offering too much reluctance, the Monochromon slowly stepped forward, hauling the cart stuffed with tea leaves behind him. The wheels creaked and groaned as they clacked over stones and dirt, crossing the fields.

Suddenly, the cart jolted to a stop as the wheels locked up. The Monochromon groaned loudly and strained, trying to pull a vehicle that simply refused to move.

"What happened?" Shijo wondered, having almost fallen out of the back of the cart. He righted a few of the baskets that had fallen over and shoveled the tea leaves in with his hands.

"Who knows?" Daisuke said with a sigh. "This thing is only about a hundred years old. It sounded like something broke, though." He got down from the cart, wondering how he was supposed to fix an ancient cart, wondering why it was that someone hadn't bought or built a new one.

There was a soft, almost inaudible thud a few steps away from the cart. Shijo turned his head, but saw nothing in the near-darkness. A moment later, he heard another thud a few steps in the opposite direction, and turned again, squinting.

The side of the cart was covered with small metallic objects, each one embedded in the wood. Several of them had landed between the spokes of the wheels, thus preventing the wheels from turning. Curious, Daisuke knelt beside the cart, squinting through the near-darkness to see one with more clarity. Carefully, he grasped it and pulled it free.

V-mon, having been forced into wakefulness by the sudden stop that had nearly tossed him to the ground, said then, "Something's here."

"Yeah," Daisuke muttered, voice sounding annoyed. He got to his feet, and they could see that he was holding a small, metallic object. It was triangle-shaped, with each side made of a sharp blade. The polished metal glinted in the light of the setting sun. "Something not friendly, either." With a sharp thud, he set the blade into the side of the cart, where it remained solidly placed.

"What is that thing?" Shijo wondered, eyes wide. "It looks dangerous."

Daisuke would have answered, but he was distracted by the sound of a third soft thud nearby. It was quiet, almost inaudible, but he'd been listening for the past few moments – since finding the objects imbedded in the side of the cart.

"It looks like it belongs to an Igamon," V-mon replied, examining the object. "It's not often you get to see one. This one looks like it's really well made, too – whoever the Igamon got to make it is pretty skilled."

"Igamon?" the boy echoed, confused. "Why would an Igamon throw one of those at us?"

"More than one," Daisuke put in, frown deepening. "Looks like at least two dozen."

"Two dozen?"

"To steal tea?" Agumon suggested. When this was met with looks of disbelief from the others, he shrugged. "Perhaps they're thirsty."

"Who would steal tea leaves?" Shijo questioned, shaking his head. "Who would send Igamon to steal tea leaves?"

Before this question could be answered, however, another of the sharp, three-sided blades landed in the side of the cart with a solid thud. It was not far from Shijo, and the sight of it made him quite frightened. He backed up from the edge of the cart, almost knocking over a basket of tea leaves.

"We need more light…," V-mon muttered crossly, squinting into the fields. "I can't see a thing!"

"Baby Flame!" called out Agumon, and the field was momentarily illuminated by a brief burst of flame that quickly flared and died. While it was lit, they could make out five or six small, dark shapes not too far away.

"I was right!" V-mon shouted. "Igamon!"

Not good, Daisuke thought, but before he had a chance to think anything further, another of the sharp blades flew past his head, barely missing his ear. Instinctively, he dodged, ducking out of the way, dropping to the ground. Half a second later, another one flew past his left arm, slicing through the fabric of his sleeve and cutting a thin red line through his skin. Silently, he cursed, but had no time to think anything further. Two, then three more of the throwing blades embedded themselves into the side of the cart, not far from his head. Looking up, he saw one of the dark shapes he knew to be an Igamon leaping toward him through the air.

Then, another speeding object flew through the air and collided with the Igamon. It was moving so quickly and was over so fast that in the dim light Daisuke couldn't tell what it was. He thought to get to his feet, to move out of the way, but almost immediately a voice in his head said, Don't move.

For a brief moment, he considered ignoring the command, but almost immediately afterward, another blade whizzed over his head, chopping off a lock of hair. Another dark shape appeared before him; another speeding object that he could now identify as an arrow lodged in the body of the Igamon and it dropped to the ground with a thud and deleted a moment later.

Feeling as though it might be best to get out of the way, Daisuke began to scramble to his feet, only to hear the voice in his head once more say, almost desperately now, Don't move! Please!

But – he silently protested, only to feel another arrow fly past his ear so close that he could feel the feathery end on his skin. For a moment, his heart stopped beating, and then he gave in and decided to keep as still as possible.

"Whoa," he heard Shijo say, a gasp of astonishment, and then he saw, from the corner of his eye a strange white-colored blur collide with the dark shape of the Igamon. After a moment or two, they moved into focus in front of him, and he saw that the white blur was a small feline digimon. Using sharp claws that glinted in the dim light, the feline digimon sliced through several Igamon with ease.

"Daisuke!" shouted a voice he recognized, that of his sister, from somewhere behind him. For a split second, he debated turning his head, but before he could do so, another one of the blades flew dangerously close to him, once again slicing a thin line in his upper left arm. He winced, but didn't move, this time somehow expecting the arrow that zoomed past him a half-second later and destroyed the Igamon that had thrown it.

"Is that all of them, then?" Tailmon questioned, sniffing the air.

"It looks like it," answered Hikari, stepping in to view. She had thrown the bow she carried over her shoulder, and now she looked to where Daisuke was still sitting on the ground, examining the two small cuts on his arm. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, but before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by the sound of his sister's voice once more.

"Fine? Fine? There were Igamon throwing things at you!" she said, voice sounding hoarse, betraying the fact that, despite all the light he seemed to be making of it, Jun was very concerned. Seeing him, she turned a bit paler, gasping out, "You're bleeding, for heaven's sake!"

"I'm fine," Daisuke repeated, sighing. "It's only a scratch." Frowning, he leaned against the side of the cart to help himself up.

"It looks like a nasty cut," Jun disagreed. "Two of them! Those things are sharp! What do Igamon want with you? Who did you make angry?"

"I can't keep track anymore," he answered, shrugging, and his already concerned sister noticed that his eyes became briefly unfocused and then he blinked a few times more than necessary. The simple act of getting to his feet seemed to have tired him far more than it should have. For a few moments, she stared at him, and saw that despite his unconcerned attitude, it appeared that he was still breathing heavily, even though he hadn't done very much activity at all.

"You're not all right," she said sharply. Daisuke turned his head and opened his mouth to disagree, and then turned suddenly pale, shut his eyes, and collapsed to the ground.

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It was a cool evening, the heat of summer finally broken, at least temporarily. Gentle breezes danced through the gardens and orchards and fluttered the leaves of the trees. A thin shawl wrapped around her shoulders, Miyako stood on the veranda after sunrise and felt the breeze. The fruits of her father's orchards were ripening; she had watched the workers all day plucking the juicy objects from the trees with some jealousy. She loved the sweet taste of the fruits and ordinarily tried to pitch in as much as possible at the harvest time. This year, however, she had spent much of the last month in bed with what might have been the worst cold of her life. Although she felt well enough to help out now, her mother had refused to allow it, fearing a relapse.

Hawkmon was already asleep, as he often was in the evenings. Sometimes he would go for short fly around the grounds, but tonight he was already napping, dozing in the midst of the blankets piled on the edge of her bed, a room away.

There was a soft thud on the roof of the house behind her, and she glanced up to see that someone was standing there. It was not immediately possible to see who it was, for it was dark and the person was dressed entirely in dark clothing. After a tense moment during which Miyako wondered if her heart had stopped beating, the visitor dropped down to the veranda and could be seen clearly in the candlelight.

It was Ken, dressed entirely in dark clothing. Though he wore no mask nor hat, Miyako was certain that he had managed to sneak on to the roof not as himself, but in the guise of the Dark Bandit. It had been some time since she had seen him, having been sick, and it had been even longer since she had seen him in this way.

"Feeling better?" he questioned, adopting a casual sort of pose, as though it was perfectly normal to climb atop roofs as a means of visiting people.

"You scared me half to death," Miyako scolded, though with less ire than her words might have suggested. "Is there some reason you couldn't take the stairs?"

Ken shrugged lightly, and Miyako wondered then, as she often did, if spending time with Daisuke somehow made him more and more daring and careless. "I didn't suppose that your mother would have allowed it," he answered, "since she told me earlier today that you were still too sick to have visitors."

"Really?" she asked, and redirected her frustration towards her mother. "She didn't tell me anything about that."

Again he shrugged, folding his arms at his chest. "I would guess that your mother doesn't much approve of me," he replied, and to this Miyako couldn't help but snort. Briefly, he flashed a rare smile at this reaction.

"My mother…," she mumbled, and then shook her head, choosing for the moment not to prattle on about how her mother had taken a simple cold and overreacted, becoming far more concerned than necessary. She sighed, pushing the entire matter from her mind and then asked, "What brings you here in the middle of night?"

"Official business," he answered, standing up slightly straighter. "The queen herself asked me to make sure that you had not exaggerated your reports of recovery in your letters."

Miyako grinned cheerfully, suppressing a giggle at the formal tone of his voice. It was a rather roundabout way to say that Sora had been worried about her, and made it sound as though it was really important that he come immediately. "I haven't," she replied, struggling now to keep a straight face. "I have reported nothing but the truth."

"I would ask when you planned to return to the palace, but it would seem by your mother's reaction that it's not likely to be until spring," Ken observed, raising one eyebrow. "I don't think that will make Sora happy."

"It doesn't make me happy, either," Miyako answered, frowning once more. With a sigh, she sank onto one of the benches that lined the veranda. "I don't relish the thought of staying here all winter, and yet…," again she sighed heavily. "I'm bored."

"Bored?"

"I spent most of the summer in bed," she explained. "I thought I would go crazy with boredom! Now that I finally feel better, it's about to become cold, and I'm sure that if Mother fears a relapse will occur helping out in the orchard, then she's not likely to let me travel to the palace in the cold. I'm going to go insane."

"I'm sure you won't go insane," Ken replied in a patient tone, sitting on one of the other benches. He had the immediate sense that she didn't feel remotely reassured by this reassurance.

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The sun had long since sunk, and the bedroom was lit only by candles. Opening his eyes, Daisuke felt disoriented for a moment, having expected to find the morning sun streaming in through his windows. Instead, there was only dim candlelight. Despite the cool night air, it was certainly not cold enough to warrant a fire, and yet one was crackling in the fireplace. He began to sit up, and felt a sudden, sharp pain in his left arm. Immediately, he turned and saw that a crisp white bandage had been wrapped around the spot where the blades of the Igamon had scratched through his skin.

The pain was a bit more than he had expected, and so he poked at it experimentally for a few moments, testing the area and finding it a bit more tender than expected as well. He moved the arm around, swinging it wide, and saw that movement was not hindered in the least.

There was the sound of the door opening and closing behind him, and he turned to see that Hikari had entered the room. "Feels all right?" she questioned in the same falsely casual voice she had used when she'd asked the question in the fields.

"Mostly," he answered, poking at it again. "Hurts a little. I don't understand…what happened – why…?"

"It seems that the blades were dipped into a sort of poison," Hikari answered, her voice even and calm. She sat down on the edge of the bed, as there were no chairs nearby. "There wasn't enough of it to do much harm, thankfully. It wasn't designed, so far as we can tell, to kill, but to put one to sleep."

"Which it did," he concluded, frowning.

"Yes," she said, sighing, "and I think it's no mystery what a group of Igamon might want of you – who would send them here."

Daisuke was silent for a moment, and then nodded once. "Xiao," he mumbled, clenching the tired fist of his left arm. "I didn't think he'd given up."

"No," Hikari agreed, shaking her head. "It was a mistake to think so – even though it's been two years." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I never managed to break the spell – if I had, he never would have…."

"Blaming yourself won't accomplish anything," Daisuke interrupted, now turning to face her with an intense sort of expression she had not seen in a while. "It's an impossible task, and even then, I don't know if Xiao would have given up. It's the spell itself he wants – if you figured out how to break it, he would have just wanted to know that, too."

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I would have had this up yesterday, but the site kept giving me messages about being too busy...

It has begun. Thank you to all who read and review. I hope you enjoy.