Author's Notes
Hello everyone. First of all, thank you to everyone who read this story, to Kaito Lune and Journey for reviewing.
I've finished planning this story too, and it has wound up longer than I had originally thought. Anyway, its ten chapters long, including the prologue and the epilogue. And generally speaking, the stories I've planned out are the ones updated faster.
Keep in mind that this happens way after the prologue. And time runs differently between the real and digital world. So while the others have only been in the digital world for a few weeks, for Duskmon, who as Kouichi fell down the stairs and entered a coma while Takuya and Koji were still in the elevator, it has been a few months.
Also, when you're reading this, keep in mind that this is related in past tense, meaning there are some references to things that happen later on. It wouldn't be quite this detailed if it was writing in present tense.
These chapters are longer than my usual ones as well. Got a bit carried away. But eleven pages is not too bad...at least it wasn't twenty-one like that one time...
Anyway, read and review please.
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or any of the characters in it. All I own is my writing and my personal opinion.
Identity
I am Duskmon...or so he says. There was always doubt, but so small that it was suppressed by unconditional loyalty. Till I saw him. Koji Minamoto. His light burned through my darkness, amplified my doubts. I hated it, but perhaps Duskmon was not who I really was after all.
Kouichi K
Chapter 1
I gazed up at the night sky from the highest peak of the Rose Morning Star. Darkness coated the broken and fragmented land far below, only illuminated by the three moons twinkling in the sky. Pink, yellow and blue...each symbolic for one of the three Celestial Digimon: pink for Ophanimon, representing her dominion over love, blue for Seraphimon, whose job had been to uphold the world's system of law and order; well, at least till his rather...shocking displacement, and yellow, the most ambiguous of the all...symbolic of Lord Cherubimon, and shrouded slightly in mist.
The castle itself was also illuminated by the moonlight, due to its rather interesting architectural design. During the day, when the sun shed light upon the rest of the world, the area in closest proximity to the Rose Morning Star was shrouded in the shadows that clouded its mysteries, shadows created by the exquisite twists and turns of the outer walls, and the mirrored barriers that reflected the darkness into the inner passages and rooms. At night, however, the moonlight infiltrated the veil of shadows, making the castle shine like the star formation it stood below, the light shining through the inner chambers and passages. Burning, hot light, illuminating all in its path.
That was not favourable to me, being the Legendary Warrior of Darkness. As a result, long nights were spent on the platform upon which I currently stood, the one place within the castle, save the Hall of Shadows, where the light of the moons did not reach.
I scowled up at the Digital World's natural beacons of light. The night was my realm, light had no business interfering. And yet, for all my innate hatred, I could not imagine a night without the light of the moons illuminating it.
And for as long as I can remember, each and every night has found me staring up at the three moons in the sky from my current position. Like a mirror, it reflected my confusion, the light that it reflected from the sun...and the darkness of the night, its shroud of protection, covered the coloured face in little wisps of grey, and at times like this, it appeared the perfect balance. Darkness and Light. Yin and Yang.
I guess it's true, that no being is truly resistant to the influence of the moon, or moons in this case. I wasn't sure how, as with most knowledge I had retained, but I knew places existed where only a single moon was visible in the sky.
It was strange, I mused, how the sunlight was instantly repelled by any obstacle in its path, while the light from the moon managed to sneak through even the smallest gaps to illuminate everything beneath it. And somehow, that light, unlike the barrier of light I despised, enhanced and amplified the darkness of the night as opposed to forcing it back into the deepest nooks and cranes.
But that didn't change the fact that it was light, and light was my enemy. As Lord Cherubimon has told me, and as I have accepted. It was strange, but I trusted my Lord's judgement. What sort of servant would I be if I doubted my master's intentions, or his words, or the knowledge he revealed to me?
My gaze shifted to the ravished land, even more so as the distance increased Like a typhoon, where the only place spared in the Eye of the Typhoon, the epicentre, in this case, the Rose Morning Star, and the land surrounding it into which the castle had dug its roots.
It was the edict of Lord Cherubimon, and the others blindly followed the orders, whether because they feared the punishment that came with disobedience, or in the hopes to achieve their own agendas which they had deluded themselves into believing others were ignorant of their intentions.
Humph...the only ones who were woefully ignorant were they themselves, their delusions of grandeur blinding them to their own failings and the superficiality of their endeavours. And yet they hesitate not to point out the flows in others.
Heavy footsteps shook the castle, but I payed them no heed. Grumblemon, the Warrior of Earth...I could easily recognise the distinctive sound of his footsteps, coupled with the frustrated muttering under his breath.
His footsteps were broken, erratic...they always were. There was strength in them, but they, like himself, lacked true purpose. His pride, his stubbornness, the strength at his disposal and his lacking intellect...they caused him to seek approval through simple-minded, occasionally rather rash and foolish efforts, and detest the help of others, though in all honesty, I, at least could not fault him for loathing reliance.
'Can't believe me get spirit taken. Me make kids pay and pay big time.'
And now he had returned after another failed effort, although I could sense that something more than his own pride had been injured, especially since a spirit, or perhaps more, had been lost. Each Legendary Warrior had elemental sympathy to their own element, and to some extent, those associated with it. And the close proximity to the Chamber of Spirits enhanced that sympathy, the spheres which dwelled within representing each of the ten elements: Fire, Ice, Wind, Thunder, Earth, Water, Wood, Steel, Light, and my own element, Darkness.
The wind, earth, water, wood and steel spheres were active, though earth seemed less so than normal; from this small distance, I could sense their powers running through the walls of the castle. Darkness too was active, or so I presumed; I had not stepped out of the reach of the Chamber of Spirits for too long, and last, far too briefly, to be able to recognize a change in the intensity of the darkness I felt. The darkness, whether it was my own, the continent's, the night's, the sphere's...or even the power of Lord Cherubimon, they were all the same to me. They were darkness.
Lately, the ice sphere had been active as well, coupled with Grumblemon's success in capturing the human spirit. But it now lay relatively dormant within the chamber, far too distant for its power to be absorbed and spread by its sphere.
So...Grumblemon had lost the spirit of Ice. And one of his own. His beast present I presume, as that rather annoying accent still sounded through the corridors from the room he raged in to the platform upon which I stood.
Then another voice interrupted Grumblemon's rant, her southern drawn echoing via the water which was her domain.
'Goody. The beast of brains of duck has come up with another confident plan. Honey, you couldn't outwit a nitwit.'
Well, that was one way of putting Grumblemon into perspective. While he possessed physical strength, his pride and stubbornness got in the way of achieving a higher level of intellect. His pride and desire to prove himself propelled him to foolishly rush into action, never thinking of the consequences of his actions, and as a result, his recklessness more than often resulted in a trail of mistakes following him.
Though it was not as though he was the only one with faults.
'What? Who's there? That you Ranamon?'
'How many Warriors of Water do you know?'
Water...such a materialistic element. Attachment to foolish worldly things...a life which has no meaning beyond daily survival. Superficial and futile...a life simply confined in a narrow sphere of only skin and bones. Ranamon was the same, symbolic of the flaws of her element...but ironically enough, the strengths prominent in water as a whole were absent in her. After all, it is water that gives life to the dry land, which extinguishes the fire threatening to rage out of control and destroy all, that gives life to dormancy and end the fights that otherwise would go on for as long as time would allow it. But the warrior of water was not quite so forgiving; her hate, her jealousy, her envy, they had led her to the futile life she led know, and her futile aspirations to a unattainable love. And that made her weak.
'Now listen up Rockhead. Don't go sneaking around behind our backs trying to impress Cherubimon.'
Jealousy...she wouldn't dirty her quaint little hands for the small spoils that came from menial labour...or she wouldn't, but she was quite easy to manipulate in that sense. Her vanity, her materialistic attachment and aspirations led her to be quite a useful means to an end. Especially since her own superficiality blinded her to that.
But still...she wouldn't if she could help it...but that didn't mean she couldn't attack the failures of others. Though if anyone were to attack her own...well, suffice to say she never liked that, though she did have a certain way of getting under others' skins.
'You back off. What I do is now business of you.'
Pride...and his desire to prove himself in the eyes of others. Ranamon seemed to hit a nerve, had digimon anatomy had that parallel to humans. His pride, which caused to retaliate in such a weak response...which caused him to foolishly rush into battle and consequently lose all he had gained and more, which didn't allow him to seek the help of others when he needed it. Pride, which ultimately led to his downfall.
'Well, aren't thou sacred?'
'Mercurymon.' Warrior of Steel.
Steel...an element that appears tough and endearing at face value, but battered down by the surrounding elements, and in the end, simply a reflection of the outside world, shaped and prepared for public display. Mercurymon...he is empty in essence, simply reflecting those around him, their strengths...and their weaknesses. He studies, absorbs knowledge, and uses it to his advantage...but he lacks the uniqueness and individuality that sets each apart from another. He fights with intellect rather than brute strength, choosing to strike only when the result will benefit him greatly, leaving the more menial labour for the more expendable barriers.
In that sense he is...well, was powerful, smart and with the power of more than one element at his disposal, but it is all empty without the identity that would set him apart. The thing that differentiates the shadow from the real thing. The uniqueness which eventually led to his ultimate defeat.
An identity which I too am partly lacking, in a different sense.
'Thy thoughtless acts reflect badly on us. Thou should study an opponent first, not foolishly rush into battle.'
That was his way; study, before battle. His strength...and his weakness, because the future cannot be written in ink before it has come to pass, in which case it is no longer the future. Steel is supposed to be malleable, adjustable, but his hours of study and strategising in order to achieve his goals hardened the steel from which he was fashioned from. He could not, and would not, be able to adjust to potentially new situations when the time came, and it was that lack of adaptability that ultimately led to his downfall.
'Got that right.'
'Arbomon.' Warrior of Wood.
Wood...symbolic of change. Barring both darkness and light, it is probably the element closest to the celestials, as Arbomon's bio-rhythms are quite in tune with the lining of the three moons. Though, apart from that, he is the one I find most contradictory to his own element. Wood is symbolic of prosperity, life and fortune, all three of which its warrior is severely lacking. He searched for change, yes...but his search simply led him to rotting decay...and defeat.
He tried to remake a past already carved into the bark of trees, already held down by the roots of the plants that grew on the land. He tried to hide his insecurity by enhancing his physical strength, tried, much like Grumblemon, to prove himself...tried to prove himself by struggle and the fruit of his own sweat...and thus fell himself.
'Yo. Want us to ruffle them up for ya?'
I shook my head lightly, in what would have been amusement could I feel it. So like Grumblemon...looking at brute strength to solve any problem. Alone, strength was nothing. It was hollow, empty, and simply that. Nothing.
Meaningless. It was all meaningless.
'Enough. Our circle is complete.'
Their circle was complete with the four of them. Earth, water, wood and steel. Darkness enveloped them, but for the most part, stood apart from them. Four elements. Four digimon, united by their strives towards their own agendas, and their alliance with Lord Cherubimon in order to achieve that.
'What about Duskmon, Warrior-'
'Oh please Sugah. He wouldn't join us in a million years.'
...because there was that undeniable barrier between us, between me and them. I had always been different from them. They were digimon, simply fashioned by data, but I was different. I was something more...or less. I did not know. I did not know who I truly was. I was Duskmon, yes, but the name still sounded wrong on my tongue, despite the months that had passed since my 'rebirth'. But at that point it didn't matter. I was Duskmon, the Legendary Warrior of Darkness, and that was all.
'He hath no heart for battle, and doeth little more than stare at the moons. We shall rule this world, while his only domain will be the world he sees with the depths of his eyes.'
They laughed, part in amusement and part in scorn, before silence once more filled the castle. They saw me as an outsider. My actions and decisions set me apart from them. Apart from everything. For the most part, I was content to wait and watch from the shadows, making little to no attempt to interfere with the happenings of the rest of the world. Not happy mind you, nor even fulfilled, but I was content to wait. Patience was a virtue, and the way of darkness.
The other warriors, whether the other four, engrossed in their own superficial aspirations, or the human children that had been called and guided to the five remaining spirits by Ophanimon, only knew their respective elements at face value. The other five I only knew by the intensity of their respective spheres in the Chamber of Spirits, and the recounts of various battles and journeys from quite biased, and occasionally contradictory sources, sometime, so much so that no weight could be put on their assumptions. And of course, each recount is given in the subjective bias of their own judgement.
And thus my assumptions, from the lack of any interaction with me, came from the opaque light from the spheres, measured against the darkness of my own, luminescent one. My eyes traced the shadowed paths created by the dimming moonlight shining upon a land soon to be ruined by war.
Such a shame. It was really quite beautiful.
Immediately, I wondered where that thought had come from. It wasn't as though I was emotionally attached to this place, despite spending my entire remembered life in it. Why should I care if this place crumbled with the rest of the world? I lived here, yes, but it was empty. It lacked substance.
Scowling, I looked to the horizon, where the sun was beginning to infiltrate the barrier of the night. I turned and walked into the castle, shadows coming to life on the walls as the light from the sun eradicated the moonlight that previously had illuminated these corridors.
The darkness was soothing, numbing. I was confused, and curious, but not enough so that I felt the need to search for answers to sate me. Such a search would be as useless and superficial as everything else. I was a Warrior of Darkness. The Warrior. My purpose, my reason for existence, was simply to serve the emancipator of Darkness. Lord Cherubimon. There was nothing more.
Though it didn't change the slight dissatisfaction that existed...and doubt.
But it was inconsequential For now at least.
Cherubimon's castle was like a labyrinth. Through the various twists and turns I walked, with no real destination in mind. During the long days, I occasionally collected small bits of fractal code, or else builded up my strength in my own way. I had never set foot on the battlefield; a fact that the other warriors scorned me for.
If only because no opponent was really worth my time. I fought but rarely, as the small victories that ensured gave me no satisfaction. Death snuck upon them like a silent shadow, and in the moment it took for them to react, their life was over, and their fractal code scanned.
The digi-eggs were spared, but not because of mercy. Mercy was not the way of darkness. But it is simply the way of all life: destruction...and rebirth. The digi-eggs, the amassed fractal code, they were simply tools for rebuilding a chaotic world.
Though I did not know exactly what Cherubimon planned to do.
But that's beside the point. As things stood, it mattered not to me either way. The world progressed, and for the most part, I stood apart from it. I simply did as I was commanded. At that time, disobedience and failure were concepts inconceivable.
Apparently, others disagreed.
'Mercurymon. Hello. Anyone in there?'
I had come to one of the inner chambers, in which the pillars twisted up to the high ceiling like gnawed trees. Ranamon was perched on one of its 'branches', hanging upside down and looking expectantly at her companion. Mercurymon's lips twisted in to a smirk, but he gave no answer to Ranamon's remark.
Though an answer was not necessary in this case. The question was redundant after all, it was futile to bother asking. A rather fruitless attempt to strike up a conversation which was not simply necessary, and would primarily served the purpose of passing time.
'You holding out on me spikey?'
Spikey, meaning sharply irritant in temper and/or manner. An interesting choice of wording, hardly a compliment, and in some circles, can be seen as an insult. Not so much so with Mercurymon; his mirrors were hardly cracked with insolent slang.
And Ranamon was always so easily flustered. But having to stoop to picking insult to incite a response...well, her words after all lacked substance, as does any meaning in them.
Hence why I disliked unnecessary chatter. The lack of substance took conversations through twists and turns which only ended in a hollow, echoing silence, ringing with inconsequential words stringed into hasty and superficial phrases. It was devoid of interest, devoid of meaning; all in all a bankruptcy. And yet I remained in the shadowed hallway outside, listening, because my life was as superficial as all else.
'So tell me, what do you plan to do with the data you swiped from Seraphimon?'
Seraphimon's data? This was a new development, one that I had not previously been aware of. So...order too had fallen into chaos.
Interesting.
'I mean, you are plan to giving it to Lord Cherubimon, aren' you?'
A hint of doubt, though I honestly could not blame Ranamon for that. Especially since that data was most vital for his own agenda, and he would be quite reluctant to relinquish his hold on it.
Though doubt is always a weakness that any enemy, and even some allies, would exploit...
'Does thou doubt me?'
...such as Mercurymon.
'Take it easy. I was just wanderin'.'
Silence.
'Well?'
Agitation. Whether because of her inability to carry on a meaningful conversation, or any sort of conversation, with the mon she was infatuated with, or something else, it didn't matter.
'Ah...Alas. Poor Grumblemon. His search is in vain for young children.'
All their aspirations were. Their journeys were futile, but it was all they had. A superficial existence. But they had that at least.
I didn't. I was here simply because I was. Because Lord Cherubimon had brought me into this world, and so I followed him. I lacked an ultimate purpose to strive towards, and despite how foolish and futile the strives of the others were, at least they had that something.
But then, it didn't matter. My own search only came into light later on...
'Even if he found them, what would he do? The last time he fought them, the little brats took his beast spirit. Some warrior.'
Ranamon laughed. Loud, echoing...empty. Her laughter lacked happiness, and seemed forced, hiding fear. Something Mercurymon, as well as I, could sense. And we both knew the source of that fear.
'Thou should take care to speak ill of Grumblemon, especially when thou is yet to find thy own beast spirit.'
She was afraid, because she was not as powerful as the rest without her beast spirit. Without it, she couldn't do much damage...she might as well fight a solid rock for all the damage she'd be able to do. Water wasn't too threatening when separated from its element after all, evaporating into the very heat the air carried.
'That is a very mean thing to say.'
Though Ranamon would do well to admit her weaknesses rather than deny them and allow them to weaken her further.
'Tis not mean. Tis but the simple truth Ranamon.'
'When I want your truth, I'll ask for it, Sugah.'
What fools these digimon can be. Foolishly searching for meaningless pursuits.
But that was my life as well; empty, superficial, lacking substance. I was restless. But I waited patiently. Because he, Lord Cherubimon, had ordered me to.
I knew that one day, my turn would come. Darkness would envelop this flawed world, and the light, that accursed light, the source of all pain I retained memories of and much I didn't, will be crushed under the feet of darkness where it belonged. Whether it resulted in my ultimate destruction or my reprieve, it mattered not. The end result would be the same.
And so I waited.
Then Grumblemon fell. To the five human children no less, the spirits of Earth left Cherubimon's hands. The earth sphere dimmed in the Chamber of Spirits, as did the sphere of wind, and their power ceased to flow through the castle and surrounding land, their powers now in the grasp of others, far less, or perhaps far more, deserving. I was too ignorant to know. Besides, Cherubimon, despite his attempts to achieve the spirits, albeit rather indirectly, never gave off the impression of disputing their right to them. And the spirits are, essentially, useless without someone to wield their power. Power that was much sought after.
The other three warriors were panicked, and fearful, although they attempted to hide it from watching eyes. But subtle strains were demonstrated in their behaviour. Ranamon's was the most prominent, with her main weakness brought into light with the grail she so foolishly sought; her lack of a beast spirit.
A fact that Mercurymon was always quick to remind her of.
Author's Notes
Yellow is a very ambiguous colour, because it represents both happiness and anger as well as sickness and decay, warmth...as you can see, some of these are a bit contradictory, and varies with context and tone. It also represents two sides, ie. Happy and compassionate, as opposed to angry and vengeful, which is a good representative of Cherubimon.
The darkness cannot keep out the moonlight because the moons are essentially a part of the night, in comparison to the sun, which is a part of the day, and thus cannot pierce the darkness.
Battlefield in the sense of a two way battle, not in the sense that Duskmon simply defeats his opponents and moves on without them fighting back.
Duskmon wants to, essentially, live a purposeful life, or else not live at all. Right now, he is alive (obviously), but his life, as he says, lacks substance. Although he now has an anchor, and a physical form, he has no ultimate purpose to strive towards, unless you count destroying the light, which at this stage doesn't count, because the intensity of his will to destroy it doesn't emerge till later on.
One more thing. You'd have noticed that Duskmon is picking up the faults of the others, and thinks that makes them weak. He doesn't however deny that he has faults of his own, and to him, accepting this faults made him stronger than the others. I personally think that as well, after all, he did admit that the light was painful to him in front of Koji in episode...20 I think: "Brother, who art thou?"
And if anyone doesn't agree with me, that's fine. You are entitled to your own opinion, but this is just my view on Duskmon, and the other legendary warriors (only the evil ones so far).
