Author's Note: Thus begins a tale I have long held close to my heart, waiting for it to ripen. Now I am ready, and the tale begins. A few notes: the point of view in this story is a bit different from normal. Do not go in expecting a standard first- or third-person viewpoint.

And now, enjoy!

Chapter 1: A Beginning

I am called Highest, Emperor of the World, Fearslayer, Hopebringer, Destroyer and Savior. I have broken the foundations of the world and built them anew. I sit upon a throne carved of jade and adamant, and I call the winds to be my ears in the world. By my power I have raised up mountains and leveled them, dried seas and refilled them. At my word is peace brokered or peace broken, and when I call, the Four Gods attend and pay heed. I am the First of all Digidestined, who saved the world and later tore it asunder only to rebuild it afterward. I am power incarnate, more than human, more than Digimon. I am Master, Harbinger and Gatebreaker; I have drunk from fountains of living water, and I have seen things that would tear a mortal mind to shreds, commanded armies that blackened the face of the earth for a hundred miles in every direction, and sat alone atop the pinnacle of the world contemplating the End. For the sake of the world, I have sworn oaths to bind my power forever, I and the gods and their servants, we who, in our arrogance, in our lust for power, once brought the world to the edge of ruin. I have walked many miles, heard many stories, seen through many eyes, and heard through many ears.

A tale I will thee tell.

The tale begins, as it always does, with the Digidestined. Not I, but those who followed after me. I have their memories now, have seen their experiences through their eyes, heard them through their ears. They were picnicking, of all things, on the day when I chose to reveal myself. It was morning in the Digital World, and they had gathered on a beach on File Island. Palm trees waved in a wind that smelled of sea salt and carried the sound of breaking waves across the sands and into the forests. Kari's hair streamed back in a long tail, and not only hers. She did not, does not know her power, or her significance in the world at large. Nor do any of the others, the ones who possess the great Crests, the greatest powers.

Davis, who bears the power of Miracles, made a fool of himself as usual. He had gone into the forest, ostensibly on a bathroom break, but in truth to search for something. For that part of File Island became jungle as one went beyond the beach, and he thought that he might find flowers for Kari. He trudged through the dense underbrush, pushing away hanging vines that bloomed with tiny white flowers, but they were not what he was looking for. Roses would work, he thought, but he had never seen roses in the Digital World before. Of course, he had not been paying attention, but for him that was beside the point. He would find flowers and give them to Kari, and she would smile at him, would thank him, and pluck a blossom free and place it in her hair. This image was deep in his mind, was a dream he greatly desired. And he thought that it would indeed come to pass when, as he began to despair of finding any, he came upon a stand of flowers whose petals were streaked with red and white, whose stems were unthorned, and which gave forth a smell like lavender and rosewater. A shaft of light shone around them, illuminating a pond that teemed with fish, where lily pads floated atop the surface. He looked up at the break in the canopy where the sunlight poured through.

"Someone's looking out for me," he muttered under his breath.

Doubtless someone was. Ebonwumon was such a sap sometimes; it would be like him to set a scene as perfect as the one Davis found.

But anyway. Davis was thirteen at the time, an awkward age, and one I know well. It was all a little silly, I thought, his attempts to impress Kari, to attract her favors.

Perhaps I am uncharitable. Davis had an eye for romantic gestures, and he picked five flowers to bring to Kari. These flowers were nephredil, and their nectar is poison until the blossoms are plucked free from the stems. Davis did not know this; I do, and therefore so do you.

And don't worry. No one's going to die of flower poisoning this early into the story. That is what is called anti-climactic, and it is frowned upon save in parodies, and my story is a true one and no parody.

My apologies for digressing. You came to hear a story, not my endless woolgathering.

Davis held up the flowers and sniffed at them. Good enough, he thought.

"Whatcha doin', Davis?"

The boy spun around. Veemon was there, that insipid smile pasted on his face. Davis quickly hid the flowers behind his back.

"Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all."

"Okay." Veemon leaned to the left a bit. "Why are you holding flowers behind your back?"

Davis grinned emptily. "Flowers? What flowers are those?"

"Um. The ones in your hands?"

Davis craned his neck to look behind him. "Oh, those! Those are for, are for seasoning!"

"I don't think flowers will go very well with rice cakes and hot dogs, Davis."

"Oh, don't worry, they'll do fine." Davis began to whistle as he started back to the beach.

"Are they for Kari? Are you still trying to get her attention?"

Davis stopped whistling and halted out of the shaft of sunlight. "Look, Veemon," he said, "I'm doing the best I can, okay?"

"It's not going to work, Davis."

"It will, Veemon. Give it time."

Veemon sighed. "Okay, go ahead. I'll watch your back."

"That's the spirit!" And Davis began to run toward the beach.

Veemon watched him go, then sighed once more. "Here we go again," he said, and followed the path Davis had broken.

I will admit that I interfered here. Davis was running full tilt toward Kari when he suddenly tripped over a rock that popped up out of absolutely nowhere, sending him tail over teakettle into the space between the towels on which Sora and Mimi were sunning themselves. They, of course, screamed as Davis kicked up a whirl of sand that rained back down onto the two girls. Davis lay there for a moment, coming to grips with what had happened.

He had fallen with his hands stretched out in front of him, and the whipping motion as he tried to get his balance had torn the nephredil blossoms from the stems. They lay in a perfect pentagon a foot from his outstretched hand. He heard the two girls yelling at him, but he paid them no mind. He thought his face might melt with the heat of his embarrassment. For a moment he did not want to sit up, to face the world, but he could not breathe the sand, so he slowly lifted himself off the ground and wiped the sand from his face. Sora and Mimi were glaring at him, and he looked between them, Mimi with her sunglasses perching on her pink hair like a bird, Sora with her sunhat askew, covering her forehead. "Sorry?" he said.

"Sorry?" said Mimi. "You got sand all over us!"

"I know! I know! It was an accident, though, I swear!"

Sora asked, "Why were you running, Davis?" She too had a scowl on her face, but there was a light in her eyes that Davis could not see, though I could. She knew why he had been running; she had already noticed the flowers and had a plan for them.

He tried, he really did, but he could not help but stammer and blush. "I, uh, I was just...Well, I mean..."

It was at that point that Sora pretended to notice the blossoms on the ground. "Hey," she said to Mimi, "look at these."

Mimi turned her glare from Davis to where Sora indicated. "Oh, wow," she said. "They're beautiful." She looked to Davis then back to the flowers and to Davis again. She smiled a secretive, knowing smile.

She's no idiot in matters of the heart, Mimi; I'll give her that. She was older than Davis, and she understood what he had been up to. She took one of the blossoms, held it up and sniffed it. "That's incredible. Where did you find these, Davis?"

He muttered something about the jungle.

"You'll have to show us before we leave," Sora said. She took one of the blossoms and placed it in her hair. "Yolei, Kari," she called. "Come on over here!"

Ah, Kari. The bearer of Light, whose full name meant light. She looked up from her conversation with Yolei. She was pretty, of course, the prettiest of the lot of them, and there was a lightness to her step as she answered Sora, as she stood and walked over to them. She laughed when she heard what Davis had done, but she smiled at him and took one of the blossoms and placed it in her hair, which she had begun to grow out. She sniffed the salt air coming off the sea, glanced at the wisps of clouds above. It was a good day for their party, for the sharing of food and friendship.

Her laugh had hurt Davis the most, though she did not know it, but for him, her smile was like a flash of sunlight through dark clouds. He smiled back at her, though it dimmed a bit as each of the girls put a blossom in her hair.

"You should have one too, Davis," Sora said. "You were the one who was kind enough to find them for us, after all." She smiled at him and placed the last blossom just behind his goggles. Kari raised a hand to cover her giggle.

"Come on, girls," Mimi said. "Let's go find somewhere else to lie. It's a bit too sandy over here." They all laughed as they moved off.

The smile slid from Davis's face. How foolish he had looked, he thought, how stupid, how inept. He took the blossom from his hair and threw it to the side.

It struck Ken in the chest as he neared Davis. He looked down at the blossom as it fell to the ground, then picked it up. "Sorry Davis," he said. "I'm afraid you're not my type."

Davis snarled and marched over to Ken, muttering all the while under his breath. He snatched the blossom from Ken's hand, shredded it, and threw it into the wind, which carried the petals back to the forest from whence they came.

The girls' screams had drawn the boys' attentions, and they too had laughed, though not so loud as to be heard. The older ones knew what Davis was going through, and T.K...

He was a strange one, to my mind. Davis's antics with Kari roused no jealousy in him. There was indeed no jealousy in him at all; he was the chosen one of Hope, whose Digimon was the angel and whose fate was to die. That is my Crest and power: Fate, Destiny, and it is unstoppable, inevitable.

But I was speaking of T.K. A chuckle bubbled out of him as he watched Davis, but it was to Kari that his eye was drawn. He had come to an understanding in the last year: that he and Kari were not meant to be lovers. They were two halves of one soul, each incomplete without the other. They loved one another, true, but not romantically; they were both too young for that, and he knew it. It may be that they would come to that, in time, but it was not then to be.

I have said that T.K. was fated to die, but that is the fate of all things that live. At the time, I knew only that he would die as he had lived: bringing hope to the hopeless. Now I know, but I will not tell you: a tale must be told in the proper order, as befits its internal logic, and I will not burden you with foreknowledge of what is to come.

T.K. was not dead, though, not yet, and he had turned his attention back to his brother. There was still an element of hero-worship in his eyes as he watched Matt. The older boy had his harmonica out, and he was looking at it with a troubled expression on his face.

"I don't know," he said. "I haven't played it in a long time. Too busy with the band, you know."

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't have been a good idea to bring your guitar here," Tai said. "I bet you can't play a single song on that thing."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "What are you willing to wager on that?"

"I wouldn't take that bet, Tai," said Agumon. "I've been talking to Gabumon, and—"

Gabumon jumped on Agumon and clamped the dinosaur's mouth shut. "Don't mind him," he said. "Go ahead, Tai."

"Nuh-uh, no way," Tai said, a grin on his face. "I'm not that stupid."

"Just a little bit stupid, then?" said a voice behind them. Kari had come close enough to listen in, and she stood there smiling.

Tai turned and pointed a quivering finger at her. "You take that back right now," he said.

"Yeah, right," Kari said. "What'll you do if I don't?"

Tai pursed his lips. "I suppose I could toss you in the ocean."

Something sharp poked him in the back. Tai looked and saw Gatomon sharpening her claws on a rock. "What'd you do that for?" he asked.

"Hmm?" said Gatomon. "No reason. I just wanted you to know I was here."

Tai had a very good idea why she had poked him, but he decided not to bring it up. Very wise of him, in my opinion. It is always wise not to make a woman with razors for fingers angry, especially when the woman is, in fact, a Digimon. Arguments with those types tend to be very sharp and to the point, as it were. And short, just like parts of you might be after it's over.

In any case, Tai decided not to pursue that line of conversation, and did not end up missing parts of him he vitally needed, which was terrible, because injuries of that sort are always amusing, and after fifty-seven centuries, most things get boring.

I have not forgotten Cody. He was not among the others; he was perhaps twenty yards away from them, practicing for a kendo tournament. This I found most interesting, since I too am a swordsman, and one with some skill. I have advantages over other humans, of course, but I can appreciate skill when I see it, and the boy had some. He was advanced for his age, flowing from one kata to the next as he parried the sword of his invisible partner. He had another bokotu in his bag, but I did not think he would have time to practice with it; he was wearing the full armor, and it was summer in the Digital World, and he would soon grow weary in the stifling heat of the bogu.

Armadillomon lay back among the trees, his eyes following his partner as Cody dueled the air. He was content, still as a pool after the rain has fallen and the wind has died. The sun warmed him; he drowsed while fragments of dreams floated through his mind. There is power in stillness, for it is the time of gathering strength, when all preparations are taken for the sudden leap. It is true in fighting as in war: the mind is still, centered, and the hands and feet move at its command. Within the hurricane is the eye, and in the eye is peace.

Only in silence the word.

The power of words is very great. Greater than all the power I possess; for words have power to change the heart, which is beyond all strength, all might. Words alone may turn enemies into friends, or friends into enemies; even powers such as the dark spores work only to inflame the darkness in one's heart, and they may be defeated by words if they are the right ones.

Look at how I ramble on. You would think I have nothing better to do. But that is how it goes, is it not? The words take hold, they call forth more and more, until the world is full of words and no one knows the worth of them, save only the politicians and the writers.

These children are children still, despite their experiences, their tragedies. They have not yet faced the brutal truth of reality: All things die. They will die. Their partners will die. Even I, immortal and mighty, shall one day die. Time itself will unravel, and all that was will never have been, unless some new creation springs forth in the void. I do not hope for it.

Of them all, I think Joe felt most clearly the hand of Time upon his shoulders. He sat with his back against a palm tree, a trickle of sweat worming its way down his back, with paper, pencil, and book in hand, studying for the university entrance exam. He looked up at a shout from the sea. Gomamon had caught a fish in his mouth, and he was showing it to Palmon and Biyomon. Joe smiled and went back to his studies.

He will not have the chance to take that test. War is coming, and he will play his part in it as much as anyone else will.

Last of all were Izzy and Tentomon. Izzy was chatting on his computer with Gennai, and Tentomon was eating a melon. I have little use for Tentomon, strong as he is, but I shall need Izzy. Much will depend on him in the days ahead.

And so the stage is set, the players playing their parts, and all is well: now I must introduce conflict. I must enter the game...

A sound reached the ears of the Digidestined, so soft that it did not at first register in their thoughts: the crunch of boots on foliage. Above that sound was the crashing of waves on the beach, the wind rustling palm leaves, and beyond that were the voices of beloved friends, each battle-burdened, each willing to die for any of the others. They did not hear it, for war does not always come forth with the braying of trumpets and the ring of drawn swords. Sometimes it comes with the tread of a stalking tiger, sneaking closer and closer until it is ready to pounce. So it was here, when I came walking out of the trees not a dozen yards from Cody, hooded and cloaked all in black, my face in shadow, and with a grip on my power that bent the air around me so subtly that one could only see it if one was looking for it. I came forth wrapped in all the mystery I could summon, a riddle and an enigma both. I wanted, no, needed them to fear me, to distrust me, not in the way one fears and distrusts a mighty foe, but as one does a great lord of power whose motives are inscrutable and whose actions are indeterminable. Mystery indeed, for my coming must be to them like the appearance of a god, swift and violent, wondrous and terrible at the same time.

Of course, I also wanted to show off. I wanted to perform.

Beneath my cowl, I grinned. This was going to be fun.

It was Gabumon who spotted me first, drawn by a new scent on the wind. He turned toward me and pointed. "Look!" he cried.

They turned toward me. A tall man-shape I seemed, the wind tugging at my cloak in a dramatic fashion, which is always useful. When one must make an entrance, a cloak and a bit of wind are among the best tools one can possibly have.

I looked them over, all their young faces, at the innocence of their lives that they had not quite outgrown, despite all their fights. They would fight for the cause of goodness. They thought that righteousness still existed in the world. I would teach them the truth.

"Who are you supposed to be?" Tai asked.

I gestured toward Izzy. "Have your friend over there ask Gennai. He would be able to tell you."

Agumon nudged Tai with his head. "Be careful, Tai," he whispered. "He doesn't smell human."

Tai replied in a whisper, without moving his lips. "Some sort of Digimon, then?"

"He doesn't smell like a Digimon, either."

"What, then?"

"I don't know. Just be careful."

I rolled my eyes and pitched my voice to a shout. "It's rude to leave your guests out of the conversation, Kamiya. Why don't you say it so the whole group can hear it?"

"A guy could get suspicious when he sees someone come out of the forest wearing black robes and acting like a Ringwraith."

That made me smile. "A Ringwraith would shit his pants if he found himself in the Digital World. We have things that would make a Balrog run crying back to Morgoth."

Izzy narrowed his eyes. "You're human."

"What makes you say that?" I said.

"I've never met a Digimon who knows anything about Tolkien."

"Very few of them do. The Four Gods do, of course, the ones you call the Harmonious Ones, the Sovereigns. Maybe some others. Most of them know next to nothing of the human world."

"Agumon's right," Gabumon said, "you don't smell human."

"I'm not," I said. "Not wholly, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yolei asked.

"It means," I said, "that I am something this world has never witnessed. Nor ever will again, if I have anything to say about it."

"Oikawa," Ken said.

"Oikawa was a human possessed by a Digimon," I said. "I am something different. Though I will admit that Myotismon probably got the idea from what happened to me."

"You knew Myotismon?" Kari asked.

"Yes," I said, "and he knew me. They all knew me, all the ones you faced. Devimon, Etemon, Myotismon, the Dark Masters, Apocalymon, Daemon, Oikawa. They knew me, and knew I could not stop them, bound as I was."

"What are you really?" Mimi asked. She had moved to stand behind Palmon while the others had been talking.

"I am like you," I said. "Digidestined. The first one, in fact."

Matt glanced at Tai, who met his gaze. They nodded. "Izzy," Matt said, "you still connected with Gennai?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Tell him there's someone here who says he's the first of the Digidestined, and he's got the whole Ringwraith vibe going on."

I raised an eyebrow, though they couldn't see it under the cowl.

"Right," Izzy said.

I raised a hand, and a spark leapt from Izzy's laptop. He yelled in pain and dropped it. It landed facing an empty stretch of beach. Every single Digimon crouched, ready to strike.

Before they could utter a word, I gestured toward the computer. A bright light shot from the computer screen, and it coalesced into the shape of a man in pale robes, a man young enough to be in his twenties. His mouth gaped in astonishment.

Then he saw me. His mouth closed. "Oh,' he said. "You."

"Me," I said.

He turned to look at the computer screen. "You're only supposed to be able to travel from the human world to the Digital World doing that."

"Since when have I cared about rules?"

He smirked. "You followed them during the last few years."

"Not by choice," I said.

"No," he said. "I suppose not. But even you aren't omnipotent."

"I never claimed to be."

"You acted it, though."

"Arrogance is the least of my faults, Gennai. Besides, I have a right to it."

Gennai sighed. "Are we going to stand here bandying words, or did you have a point in bringing me here?"

I nodded. "The Lord of the Dark Ocean has begun to gather in his armies. He will be ready to open a gateway to this world within two years."

And that was it: the words that would change the world. The long fall into night had begun.

Author's Note: Please remember to review. I want to make this the best story I can, and your constructive criticism can only help.