Note: Again, yes, I do have kale's permission to post his stories here. That permission is documented in his author's profile. This is the third book, continuing the saga begun in 'SoulBound' and 'A Bond Unbreakable', and occurs the winter before the beginning of canon season 02.

In another place, outside of the natural world...

The Takari Saga -- Book Three

The True Believers

The tired, wounded creature wore a dazed expression in his brown eyes as he stumbled lamely towards the great building that was his goal; a building which, disturbingly, was hazy and blurred in his sight. His frail forepaws were shaking with a visible palsy, and his tail was limp and dragged behind him in the dust of the pathway. Even the sun, the unmercifully hot sun bearing down on him from overhead made it so... so...

After a few more exhausted steps forward his fatigue overwhelmed him completely, and the creature stumbled once over his own feet and crumpled to the ground in the shadow of the temple. The book that he had been carrying so reverently in his paws clattered away to the side, just beyond the point where he could reach it. Not that he had the strength to try. It would be so easy, he thought vaguely... so, so easy to just lay here and die.

He rested his forehead on the ground in despair and exhaustion. He was no longer young, and the once chocolate-colored fur covering his body had faded to gray around the edges from the strain of living in these troubled times. But then, for him at least, most everything in the world had now faded to gray.

In our world, people would have said that he looked something like a squirrel; albeit an exceptionally large one. He would have stood about chest-high to an average human male, and his tail was somewhat less bushy than we would have said that a squirrel's should look, but the description would have been mostly accurate.

He, however, had never heard the term 'squirrel'. To him and to the rest of his race they were called a'ladon -- which a knowledgeable translator would render as 'the People'.

A choking sob, one buried beneath heavy emotion, rasped in the creature's throat as he struggled to drag his injured body towards the temple. At his back, the sounds of terror and suffering that continued to echo from the village proper made him wince anew. He knew that, to fulfill his oath, he should have stayed... stayed with the rest of his people to provide what help and solace he could after what had just happened. But now, in the new light of his loss, he could see little point in it.

Faith brings no certainty of solace, the creature thought to himself. And at this moment, are there any more wanting of that solace that I?

No. His need now went beyond simple comfort. He needed an explanation. An answer. Some sort of justification for what was happening to his people. And in the name of both god and goddess, he would have it. It would, like as not, cost him his life. But what was the life of an a'ladon worth these days, anyway? He grimaced at the thought. Hopefully enough to purchase enlightenment from the Most Holy as to what wicked sin had loosed this scourge upon them all.

A determined look coalesced in the creature's sad eyes as he pulled himself to his feet, then continued in his stumbling gate toward the enormous stone doors while clutching at the small key on its chain about his neck. He dared not allow any lucid thought to stop him from what he was about to do, and so steadfastly banished consciousness from his mind. The key slid easily enough into the lock, and so for him the door eased open.

A feeling of reverence, instilled in all a'ladon from a very young age, weighed heavily on him as he entered. Even now, decades later, he still could hear the stern voice of his grandfather as it echoed in his mind. It had been his first time entering...

Bow your head, Eli, and shake the dust from your paws. You now stand on hallowed ground.

In this place there was a feeling of greatness that could not be explained away even by the most fervent atheist. All at once it was magical and peaceful, holy and powerful, and though there was no sound to be heard, the majestic hymn of an angelic choir filled his heart with otherworldly sensations. A great progression of ancient torches, beautiful and perpetual sources of unnatural light, cast long shadows on the walls as he passed by each of them.

The creature felt bowed under the weight of the atrocity that he was about to commit, and became very, very aware of his lack of stature in the presence of such enormity. The walls of the great stone building loomed over him, and he hung his head in shame as though those same walls would condemn him for his actions. But they were only stone, and as such knew neither suffering nor doubt.

He stopped as he reached the foot of the velveted steps; steps which led up to the very heart of the building and the intricately carved statues that were the earthly semblances of the holy deities. Not for the first time he stared at them in reverence and wonder, considering anew the great powers of these most venerable of beings.

The creature gave a quarter-turn to his left and genuflected deeply before the image of his master. The most holy god, the bane of demons in whose name all a'ladon males swore. In strong contrast to his adherents, the god was always portrayed as having no thick coat of fur covering his body. The only hint of such a feature was a golden patch of it that was said to crown his head. Yellow fur. And such wise and knowledgeable eyes, eyes which were always depicted in the artwork of the time as a deep blue. Such eyes were rare among his people, occurring maybe a dozen times in a generation, and children born marked with them were always considered as blessed.

In the god's open hand rested a long rod or warrior's staff of a sort, the likeness of which had only been added in recent years due to new revelations by the seers. The change had caused a veritable upheaval among the warriors of his people, making such a staff the weapon of choice for a great many of them.

Finally, atop the god's helm rode a small, winged creature. Exactly what this being represented was a source of much speculation among the scholars. Some theorized that it was merely a pet, while others insisted that it was a sentient councilor or familiar spirit of some sort. Well, if all went according to his plan, that question would be among many that were answered.

Now he turned to the right and bowed to the goddess. He, like many of his kind, had always agreed that the creature was lovely... if in an alien sort of way. There was a smaller likeness of her in the village square, with hands outstretched as if in welcoming, and it was often the case that newborn a'ladon girls would be placed in the hands of that statue before their mother would agree to hold or to nurse them. It was a long-held tradition for any prospective bride, before answering a proposal, to sit in vigil at the feet of that statue to receive enlightenment.

In the sculpture within the temple, the goddess held in her right hand an ornamental scepter crowned with the image of the sun. It was an accepted fact by all of the clergy that she, in the beginning, had spoken into existence all light in the universe . And at the Lady's side loomed the feral muscularity of her guardian, a fell beast of a feline nature whose tremendously oversized claws and thick armor spoke volumes to its proficiency in battle. Guardian indeed! he had always thought. As if any creature would dare assail her with that at her side...

"Eli."

The old priest turned, startled at the sound of his name. Approaching him silently, on bare paws that had never known footwear, was Lugh, the captain of the Laenites... the True Believers, they called themselves. By ancient tradition, Lugh and his followers shared authority in the temple with the priesthood, though they refused to take the oath of pacifism that the priests had. Now, even in the holy temple he still wore his battle garb; the leathery hide of his armor torn to ribbons and dark blood matting the fur around his right shoulder. "Why are you in here?" the captain demanded, his eyes narrowing in judgment. "There are those still in dire need of help."

The older priest did not rise from his knees, and his mouth quivered in response. "I... I am in need of help, also."

The other frowned, and shook his head in disapproval. He and his like tolerated the priesthood as equals, but did not respect their nonviolent beliefs or tender nature. It was a longstanding point of contention between the two groups, with the Laenites often heard to remark that there was a great deal of evidence to support that their god was not so opposed to warfare as the others would have them believe. "Doubting again then, Eli?"

The priest's teeth snapped together as he slammed a paw down to the stone floor. "Why do they let this happen?" The shouted demand reverberated throughout the chamber, seeming unnaturally loud after the whispered conversation. "These atrocities have been allowed to go on since the time of my father's grandfather! I have long come in search of answers and now I will demand them!"

The Laenite captain was taken aback by the passionate tone of the other's words. "Eli? You have been witness to this struggle for decades now, for much longer than I, and have never spoken so. At least not within my hearing. What has happened to make it so now?"

The old creature closed his eyes against the pain. It was too much, too soon... "My… my family," he whispered, his voice hollow.

Lugh felt the blood suddenly run quite cold in his veins, and he moved a hesitant step closer to his counterpart. "T'Amor? ...Julian?" He asked after Eli's sons, the former still little more than a child.

The eyes of the priest were distant, looking far beyond the other. "Dead," he responded past the lump in his throat. He had seen them fall, one after the other, while protecting their sister.

"Anya?" the captain continued after a moment.

Eli's paw was tight against his chest in a futile attempt to staunch the pain. "Taken," he answered through quivering lips. He glanced up at the other. "It may be that my sons are better off, yes?"

Lugh couldn't speak, and felt sick to his stomach. He had seen those three children raised from kits. "E... Eli--" he stammered.

"No!" the priest exploded, waiving his hand at the statues. "No more excuses of divine providence or that this is all somehow working together for our good. These two know where my Anya is, and know why this is being allowed to happen to us. I can take no more of this! It may well cost me my life, but I swear in the name of the Lord Takeru… I will have an answer from them!" And then, with speed that belied his age, the older creature snatched Lugh's staff from his open paw and struck the warrior aside the head with it.

Lugh collapsed to the velvet floor, never having seen the blow coming. Even if he had guessed at Eli's motives for being in that place at that moment, violence of any sort was so out of character for a member of the priesthood as to be unthinkable. But Eli's loss had now taken him beyond any oaths, and there was no other lucid thought which could dare stop him.

He closed his eyes against the pain and stepped over Lugh's unconscious body, lifting the simple medallion from beneath the other's breastplate. If he was going to commit this most inexcusable of all sins, then he was determined to commit it unmistakably. He would bring both the Lord Takeru and the Lady Hikari to stand before him and explain themselves, else to suffer their wrath and be finally beyond this pain.

Eli gritted his teeth and marched up the stairs towards the base of the enormous statues, thoughts of his children driving him on as he recalled the forbidden words of evocation to his mind. Among his people, few had leave to know those words. They were never written down, only passed on from one generation of priests to the next in spoken form, and always entrusted only to the wisest and most devoted. They were the words to be spoken only at the prophesied Armageddon, in the final days, when they would be used to call the Lord and Lady to deliver the a'ladon from evil.

The stench from the fires still burning in the village and that of too many dead bodies filled his sharp nose even as his quivering fingers moved the medallions into place. And the creature bowed his head in reverence and spoke:

"a'amon Takeru, a'amer Hikari… empiore mei. Amero l'angelum, amero l'valere, eimo haer ete… amero peddum."

*****

The two eleven year old children sat side-by-side on the grass in the park, then turned together as one and smiled solemnly at one another. This was the very spot where their crests had fused for the first time, giving them the ability to overcome the ghost of Piedmon and to exorcise his evil influence from Kari's brother. And while within that fusion, to experience perhaps the most intimate understanding of one another that was possible. And so of course it held a great deal of private meaning for them; now moreso that they were able to be there together without a chaperone.

Tai and Sora were happy now, at least for the most part. They'd been carrying around the weight of a romantic triangle with Matt for so long enough that to finally be free of it was a great relief. Now, with the tension broken and Sora's choice made at last, the healing could begin. It would be easier for them than it would for Matt, of course, who still had not quite gotten over the depression from being rejected. But thankfully he hid it well from Tai and Sora, not wanting to intrude on what joy they were finally able to experience without guilt.

"He'll be okay," T.K. had assured everyone of his brother, and Kari agreed. Matt eventually would realize that he had not been cast aside, but rather had seen his love returned in a way that was more familial than it was romantic.

The young boy peered over Kari's shoulder to the bag in her lap that had carried the food. "Anything left in there?" asked hopefully.

The girl giggled in response, and playfully shoved him away. "More? You already ate enough for three people! No, there isn't any more."

T.K. sighed in resignation of his hunger and leaned back on his elbows as Kari watched him. The younger of the two brothers was easily going to be as tall as Matt when they both completely grew up, but unlike the older boy his frame was beginning to fill out with some semblance of muscle. Matt was best described as 'lanky', but T.K., it seemed, was not destined to be so.

A gentle, steady breeze rustled the bushes surrounding them. Kari moved to his side and rested her head on T.K.'s chest, and together they lay down and stared upwards at the sky. Almost automatically the boy placed his arm about her shoulders and drew her closer, reminiscent of the time when his restorative touch had been all that had kept her from death. Neither had dressed for winter, since it had been a warm one up until now, but the sudden breeze made them both somewhat chilly and ready to return to the company of their friends.

"Oh no!" Kari exclaimed when T.K. suggested such a thing. "You spent the whole time eating, and we haven't got a chance to do anything else."

T.K. blushed, but smiled in a good-natured way. He was still somewhat naive about such things, but had an idea exactly what Kari's 'anything else' involved. The grove where they were eating was quite secluded, and the look in the girl's eyes as she stared at him was more than a little bit mischievous, bordering on naughty.

The boy decided to humor her and leaned over to kiss her once, briefly, on the lips. The breeze was becoming uncomfortably strong now, ruffling his hair and sending a mass of leaves tumbling past the two of them. Kari looked somewhat disappointed at the single kiss. "Is that all?" she asked, then moved closer to the boy and pushed him back down to the ground. "That's not exactly what I had in mind, you know," she said, still smiling impishly.

The girl paused for a moment to take in the confused look on his face before the impishness fell from the smile, and she continued in a more serious mien. "You know I love you, T.K."

He looked up at her in return. He wasn't sure that he understood all the rules to this just yet, and didn't know quite what she expected of him at any particular time. All he could do was to fall back on honesty. "And I love you too, Kari. I just didn't expect--"

What cut the boy off short was the realization that the wind swirling around them that had been gradually increasing in intensity had suddenly swelled, and was now very nearly of a gale's strength. The force of the wind was such that it should have been toppling the trees around them, but instead it seemed, unlikely as it were, that the focus of the wind was on them alone. With a suddenness that astounded each of the children, the crest dangling from T.K.'s neck and the one bound to Kari's wrist each gave a sharp, dazzling glow that threw them backwards and off their feet.

T.K. pulled the girl tightly to his chest as both rolled to a rather violent stop. The wind had suddenly died off completely, and after a moment or so of covering their respective heads both children looked up.

They were no longer where they had been. The park had been bright, breezy and fresh-smelling. Wherever they had ended up was dark, dank and musty, and with a brief murmur of pain both children stumbled to their feet and looked around. They had landed on some sort of elevated stone surface, covered with carpeting, and as their eyes adjusted to the dim light they started to see more. A small gathering of some sort was going on at the bottom of the stairs atop which they stood. At first, both thought it was a group of young children engaged in some sort of rough play, but when they could see more it became evident that they were not children at all, but some sort of small, furry creatures.

A group of them had apparently taken one by the arms and were attempting to remove him from wherever it was that they were. That one evidently did not want to go, and was struggling desperately with his captors. "Hey!" shouted T.K., upset at what he saw as a rather excessive use of force against the one.

The creatures froze at once at the sound of his voice. Slowly the group turned as a whole and looked up at the two children standing above them, wide-eyed expressions of fear, awe and disbelief evident on their faces.

Kari peered over the boy's shoulder at the gathering below. "T.K.?" she murmured in his ear. "Are they…are they Digimon?"

The boy peered closely at the group. He was almost ready to respond in the negative when one of the creatures exhaled an explosive shriek, then fell forward onto the ground in a most reverent act of submission. Soon thereafter another toppled over in a dead faint, then a third dropped to his paws and knees and started gibbering feverishly. They could make out a few of the words, but most were too stuttering to even make a guess at.

After a few moments the entire membership of the group had either fainted, was on their knees or had fled. "Wait... uh, what... what's going on here?" the blond boy asked in confusion.

"Umm, T.K.?" asked Kari, tugging on his sleeve. He turned around at her insistence and looked up to where she was staring. And there, literally towering to the ceiling, were a pair of enormous marble statues of each of them.

The boy's jaw dropped. It was a rendering of him all right, that much was made evident by the figure of Patamon riding atop his hat and the sigil of hope inscribed on his gauntleted fist. But he looked much more mature in the image than he did in the mirror, and he was fairly certain that his muscles weren't quite as enormous as depicted. He gave a surreptitious glance down at his sleeves just to be certain, and quickly looked back up. Nope.

Kari was in a similar state of incredulity. Even in her most self-absorbed fantasies she had never thought that she could be so strikingly beautiful as her likeness here appeared, and she couldn't ever remember Gatomon ever having looked so terrifyingly large or ferocious. It was clearly supposed to be her, but even she felt cowed under the flawless perfection of the idol.

Below them one of the creatures, the one who had been being assailed by the others, had finally found a way to his feet and was gazing at them with a reverential awe in his eyes. "All h... hail, great Lord and L... Lady, to whom we pledge our existence!" he shouted, stammering the words through lips which trembled violently.

"Glory and all praise, both Master and Mistress!" the remainder of the creatures (those still conscious), echoed, the words sounding liturgical and rehearsed.

The pair of young humans looked down at the gathering in astonishment, glanced once again at the statues and then raised their hands in a feeble wave. "Hi," said T.K.

*****

"But grandfather!" protested the auburn-haired creature, the deep blue of his eyes darkening in resentment. "I don't want to go to meet them. You know I don't believe that they're gods!"

The older creature was aghast at the heresy of his grandson's words and quickly slapped the boy across the cheek... though in all fairness, the blow was not a particularly harsh one. The young prince gasped once in surprise, then turned his face away in shame and fell into a sullen silence while the elder finished attaching the clasp to the cloak around his neck. Then, very gently, he picked up a small circlet of gold and placed it atop the child's head.

"Mylam," the creature admonished soothingly, as if to take this sting away from his blow. "You are our prince, and perhaps one day our king if this scourge is ever lifted from us. But until that time, Takeru and Hikari are all that our people have to hold on to, be they gods or otherwise. If you will do no more then you must at least allow us them. Speaking with them will cause little harm. Brennan has already gone to meet them."

"Without my permission?" Mylam's very nearly shouted, rising back to his feet in anger. "I will not have him providing endorsement of them on my behalf!" He turned his back on his grandfather in a sulking manner, and lowered his voice. "Why must I even have him as my regent anymore? I am almost of age where I will take up my crown and lead our people to their liberation."

"You will not!" the older creature snapped in alarm, then clenched his teeth around his bottom lip and sighed. "At least, not without their sanction of that crown. That was the mistake that your father made, and look where it got him… and all of us."

The young creature, chastised, bowed his head and rather gloomily submitted to his grandfather's care once again. He felt a brief regret for his rash words. His mother, his grandfather's only child, had been killed in the purge that had followed the brief establishment of his father's government. And even then, as a young kit, he had sworn to her on her deathbed that he would not perpetrate the same reckless act.

*****

Meanwhile, T.K. and Kari were being paraded around town by a small group of the creatures that they had found in their temple. Another of the same fellowship preceded them the entire way, calling out the rest of the 'people' to come and to pay homage to them. And wherever they were taken an instantaneous celebration seemed to ensue, with all of the creatures, young and old, stopping whatever they were doing to participate.

'Homage' may have been one word for it, but infuriatingly they could not get anyone to answer a single one of their questions. "T.K.?" whispered the girl, tugging on the boy's sleeve.

"What?" the other responded, almost having to shout to be heard over the jubilant crowd.

"Who are we supposed to be to these people? And what are they? Are we back in the digital world?"

That would be a partial explanation; that these creatures were indeed a race of Digimon and were honoring them for their part in freeing their world, but that would leave them both hard pressed to explain why only they had been taken and not the six others. The boy shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

The sun was now setting in the village as they approached what apparently was their final destination. With a mob-like mentality a horde of the creatures tried to enter the large stone building behind them, and though the room in which they eventually found themselves was best described as cavernous, it was soon filled to capacity and more. Most of the creatures were dressed in black and many more had various and evident injuries, yet the grief that the children saw on etched the faces was nothing compared to the elation.

Again they found themselves forced to march up a small flight of stone steps, and at the top they were greeted by a threesome of the creatures. The loud murmuring in the hall fell silent as the tallest of the three stepped forward. "My Master," he said in a high-pitched voice and with a deep bow to T.K. "My Lady," to Kari. "A blessed welcome to you both. I am called Brennan, and serve as regent to your people. These are the high priest Genel (the elderly creature on the left) and my nephew the Crown Prince Mylam (the sulking, clearly younger creature on the right). We offer you welcome, and vow to place ourselves under your holy authority."

This was all happening much too fast for the young humans. Master? Holy authority? T.K. tried desperately to think of something to say in response, something that would tell these creatures that there must have been some kind of mistake. But his mind, overwhelmed as it was, could come up with nothing. After a moment of awkward silence Kari nudged the boy with her elbow, prompting him to say something. "Um…hi," T.K. replied once again with a nod to the one who had called himself 'Brennan'.

The responding roar from the crowd was very nearly deafening.