Author's Notes

Hello again everyone. And thank you to everyone who read, and extra thanks to those who reviewed.

Finally finished my Arabic exams. I thought I was going to collapse on my bed by the time I made it home yesterday though. And now I'm almost home free, for now. Just internals, CAS, catching up on homework etc...and the GAT and UMAT exams coming up. Sigh...

Don't let me bore you with all that though. Just enjoy the latest chapter. And if it's a bit...um, weird or whatever, I blame Arabic (writes right to left, while English writes left to right, and the grammar is even more confusing). Still winding down...

BTW, I'm Australian, so the spelling of some words differ from the American English. Like how colour is spelt as color, symbolises as symbolizes etc. I obviously use the Australian way, so if anyone who is used to the American spelling picks these up, that the reason why.

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 2

Time passed. The other three became increasingly agitated by their inability to defeat the five humans who had inherited the spirits of the remaining legendary warriors: Fire, Wind, Thunder, Ice...and Light, probably my greatest weakness at that time.

Fire...so passionate and ever changing, ever transforming...both a strength and a weakness, depending on how one chose to look at it. It was a strength in terms of unpredictability of actions and strength in motivation and character, but it became a weakness when one's heart ruled one's head, especially when such recklessness was the cause of endangerment...or worse.

Wind...symbolic of wisdom, freedom, and in a sense, insecurity. The fiercer gales are representative of determination, and to the more extreme extent, stubbornness. The gusty storms demonstrated stress and turmoil, but also the energy that promotes change. And there are all the myths about where the wind blows...mostly references to the changing winds of luck and destiny. It was an element driven my others; its strength came from the collective support. After all, the wind was only strong when pushing by a force. Elsewise, it was simply particles of air hovering about.

Thunder...they were symbolic of pent up emotions in need of an outlet. Another indication as to the obstacles that such human emotions provided...a concept which at that time was largely foreign to me, as I was at that point, not in any way capable of feeling anything beyond a dull echo in which my minuscule doubts reside, quelled at that time by unconditional loyalty. It was powerful, thunder...but it lacked self control. It was rather akin to a dam or boiler ready to burst if pushed hard enough, but without that push, it was weak, hiding in the dark. Despite the fact that it was a Yang element. In fact, all of theirs were. We, Cherubimon's warriors, were Yin.

Ice...frozen emotions, transformation, purification, and that childish naiveté and innocence that a champion hybrid should have long outgrown. Or out-evolved...more references to human biology, though I wasn't really curious to know at that point why I had that knowledge anyway. It was, after all, useless in the world vision of that time. But anyway...frozen emotions were both good and bad in a way; good because they wouldn't interfere, and bad because they would. Rather contradictory...but things can't always be seen in logical terms. They were not as straight forward as simple equations. After all, mathematics was one of the foundations upon which data was build, and this world was in essence, made up of data.

And then there was light. The antonym of darkness...he, the warrior, was my antonym, and as Lord Cherubimon told me, my enemy...at least, then he was. They all were, but as I was yet to meet them face to face, they meant little to me. And I fathomed that if they were as superfluous as the other warriors, they would be just as easy to predict.

Light...profound insight, sightless hope, mercy...opposite everything darkness stands for. Light symbolised accumulated knowledge, but it was darkness who symbolised wisdom, depth on understanding while light grazed the surface. Mercy was the way of light, but far too often it ended in ruins. Darkness chose the way of justice instead; the fairness that held the chaos of the world in check with a stern hand, while the mercy and foolish compassion of light let it all run wild...even now, I sometimes think, that no matter how cold light is, it can sometimes be too merciful, to the cost of others. They weren't always the ones that paid, in the end...

Now, you might have noticed that I've given much thought to the failings of others. That is not to say, however, that I have, or had, no faults of my own. My own failings were things that I would not deny to myself, or even in the face of my adversary. And putting them on a hierarchy, I think that light would have been at its apex, being the opposing power to the bane of my existence.

How ironic that my greatest weakness later became my greatest strength...

...but I'm getting ahead of myself.

The others were tense, but Cherubimon at least, was not concerned with the fall of Grumblemon, nor was he concerned with his own warriors' inability to defeat the children who had defeated him. It was, after all, a part of his ultimate plan; a plan that would, and eventually did, come into fruition despite how fate tried to tempt its tide.

Not that any of us were aware of that at the present time.

And so, we all went about our daily business as normal, but as an outsider, I could sense the tension that held their far from fluid actions. I almost snorted, but repressed myself; it would have been empty anyway. Their doubts and insecurities gave them away. The only ones they were fooling with their little act were they themselves.

They each had their own agendas.

Grumblemon was proud. He wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be commemorated for something that meant something to someone else, but it all meant nothing to him. He wanted to be the one others followed, others obeyed, because he had always been the grunt forced to do the menial labour. Ironic, because that was all his ambition had brought him.

Arbomon wanted change. He wanted to refashion a past that was already set, but all that it brought him was a decaying future. The past is past, but he chose not to let go of it, and for all that happened in it, all it is now is an obstacle hindering his solidity and strength. And no matter how much physical power he accumulates, or how much fear he instigates, he will always be the same deep down, a scared little mon always cowering behind fear as he tried to pull himself out of his own rotting bark and instead fell a further victim to the maggots waiting.

Ranamon was vain. She adored her own beauty, and the attention others gave her. She had her own fanclub, twisted around the digits of her little hand, falling over themselves in their eagerness to serve her. But she wasn't happy with it. She was a prime example of the superficiality of her own desires, and I think, deep down, she was aware of that as well, or why else would she be so adamant, yet half-hearted in her arguments.

And she had her eyes set on a grail that she would never attain. It was strange, she had many others that would have been beside themselves is she had chosen them, but no...she chooses the one mon which cared not for her foolish partakes and desires...Mercurymon.

The steel warrior was power-hungry, simply put. He wanted the world in the palm of his hand, but he was not eager to soil his hands for it. Instead, he took advantage of Grumblemon's pride, Arbomon's desire for change, and Ranamon's vanity and infatuation with him...or else, he had. But they had all crumbled to dust like their pointless ambitions and fruitless journeys. This world was a wild place, it would never be tamed. Time and time again, many had tried to do so, but in the end, they had all fallen. And now, the mirrored humanoid had also risen up to a foolish challenge, the knowledge he had accumulated in his reading serving to inflate his overinflated ego.

Lord Cherubimon had provided them with that opportunity. They were simply mercenaries, ready to abdicate once their desires were fully fulfilled. They were not truly loyal to him.

Nor was he overly concerned about them.

That thought made me stop for a moment, pausing at a fork in the passage I walked through. If Lord Cherubimon gave no concern to the others, then was I any different?

I knew the answer to that. I was different from them; there was always that unmistakable barrier. It was he who had anchored me to this world, and at that point in time, disobedience or abdication were inconceivable. Whatever doubts that stemmed from stray thoughts were immediately squashed under unconditional loyalty.

Though that didn't change the fact that they existed, deep within the deep echo of a heart I could no longer feel. At times such as that, I wondered if I ever could.

I set off down the left passage, and was only mildly surprised to hear muttering halfway down.

'How did he know?' Mercurymon scowled, punching the solid rock, barely illuminated in the shrouded light of the Rose Morning Star overhead. 'How could Cherubimon define that I possess Seraphimon's fractal code?'

The disbelief in his voice was obvious, and despite the fact that I could feel no amusement from a picture which to most others would surely have been quite humorous, I laughed, a short burst of laughter. But even as I heard the sound echo softly, before fading away, I could sense its emptiness, its lack of emotion, of substance.

Mercurymon could as well, only he defined the lack of emotion as scorn. Perhaps because of his pride...or his fear that he had not been able to hide his purpose from half of whom he wished to veil them from.

His scowl deepened, red lips twisted and the mirror that was his face gleaming in the faint light. I myself stood in the shadows, and I doubt from his position the warrior of steel would be able to discern much more than a darkened outline, blinded by the light reflecting of his mirror.

'I will not be made sport by thee Duskmon,' he snapped, his voice tense.

He was too obvious. Had he nothing to fear or hide from my rather...admittedly, sudden appearance, he would not have been so tense. But his body was more stiff than it usually was, indicating that I had caught him in a rather vulnerable but badly covered up situation.

'I was clearing my throat,' I said calmly. If anything, that made him even more tense. Proof of how bothersome emotions could be. Of course, now, I wouldn't trade the capacity of feeling any sort of emotion for anything, despite what it brought me, but at that time I was incapable of feeling, and thus the display of emotion I saw before me only served to demonstrate its uselessness, and to a certain extent, hindrance.

'Tis unlikely.' Indeed...but that was not the point. Such an insignificant remark had grazed his skin, or steel I guess...sometimes I used to wander why my thoughts seemed to address certain things in a characteristically human way. I was Duskmon, the Legendary Warrior of Darkness. I was a digimon, no shred of humanity existed within me, save that which came from my 'human' spirit.

Or that's what Lord Cherubimon said, and what I believed.

But still, had he not been so proud, and so insecure, that superfluous remark should have meant nothing to him.

A spared his expression a brief glance. The slight tenseness of his lips and the way he held himself told me he was awaiting a response.

I suppressed a sigh. It wasn't like I had anything better to do than waste my time with him.

'Well, aren't you self-centred,' I stated flatly, no emotion entering my tone, standing in stark contrast to the heat rising in his own. It was pointless in any case, whoever won this foolish argument, and we were both intelligent enough to be aware of that fact.

And in any case, it was a losing battle. My nature was far too shrouded in mystery for him to pick apart my other defence. Perhaps that was why he chose to change the topic instead of pursuing the directionless thread of conversation.

'Master Cherubimon noted your absence at the meeting he requested.' Ah, the meeting. Not so much a deviation from our original banter. He was questioning my loyalty; subtly, yes, but he was. I wondered then, if his fear stemmed from his own loyalty which wavered like the fluctuating wind.

'Just because Cherubimon gets you three to obey his requests, doesn't mean that you are truly loyal to him.'

He tensed further. I had hit a nerve, figuratively speaking. A ridiculous thought entered my mind then, as I wondered whether digimon had nerves, or neural connections as humans did. It was a pointless thought, digimon were capable of conscious thought, conscious and reflexive action, and feeling pain...or else, most were, at most times. It was only later that I got my first taste of the bitterness of pain. But then, all that existed was a dim echo.

'Bite ye tongue, ye black-adder.'

'Do you deny it?'

He hadn't, and I was mildly curious as to why he had not done so. Any lie of his would have been easily transparent, but it would have at least but his own self to rest thinking that he had steered me off that particular course. But his current actions just made his motives more suspicious. He was lucky that we, to either of our knowledge, were not been eavesdropped upon.

Though Lord Cherubimon's essence ran through these walls, and I was certain he could hear our words as well. Just as he heard everything else...

'You dare question our loyalty! You, who have never set foot on the battlefield! Well, perhaps the humans be too much for you.'

'...I see what you're doing. Getting Arbomon and Ranamon to do the menial labour while you wait for the right moment to strike.'

His slight jerk was answer enough for me. Which only seemed to aggravate him further, and force another fruitless retaliation.

'Strong words for one whose actions are so weak. You are a coward.'

A weak rebuttal. One which showed just how little he understood when it came to my own personal affairs. Which, to me, was perfectly fine; the less my own musings and news of my activities leaked into the outside world, the better for me. It was not their concern how I chose to waste my time.

I did not have to explain myself. Perhaps, if it had mattered, I would have been more inclined to...protect my honour as some call it, or else my pride. But it didn't. And so, I didn't either, instead choosing to simply turn and walk back through the passage I had come down.

Another thing that set me apart from them. Such superficialities mattered not to me, but the others, Mercurymon's own response being an indication, where always adamant when it came to protecting their pride. Indeed, the entire useless conversation could have been avoided had he not been so insistent to protecting his already injured pride in a fruitless attempt to hurt mine.

But he knew too little...and too much. Too little about me, amongst other things, and too much about other, useless things, as well as some which in some circles could be deemed beneficial knowledge. The reasons I chose not to step onto the battlefield were my own; I was yet to find an opponent who sparked my interest.

'Leaving to mope you molly-cuddle,' Mercurymon's voice called after me as I left him behind.

A moment later, his voice, sprouting its usual Shakespearean accent, floated up again, softer, but echoing all the same. 'He knoweth too much. I must keep my guard up against this treacherous ally.'

'Perhaps I should get out and fight,' I muttered to myself, gazing out at the barren landscape. It was still daytime, the moons were absent from the sky, giving the continent a rather different appearance. Naturally, it was physically similar, only small changes differing from its appearance since I had last seen it the previous night, and yet, the veil that clouded the land and blotted the light from the sun gave the earth, the forest especially, a rather anonymous feel, something that was absent as the light of the moons illuminated the area at night.

I gazed down at the stretch of forest, and far beyond it, the Dark Gate at the edge of the continent. It was this anonymity that kept most outsiders out of the continent; most chose to live in the comfort of their known emptiness than venture out into the unknown world. It was normal, most feared the unknown, and even those who did not were anchored down by the mysteries of this place and the connotations of the element it symbolised.

...despite the fact that darkness is an element like the others.

It was strange, that many so easily assumed that darkness was indicative of wickedness and error. They fail to recall, or else accept, that the very definition of the word 'evil' is disputable in itself. As with almost all knowledge, the meaning understood differs from one to another due to the unique perception of reality of each individual and the limitations of each finite mind. Simply put, what is perceived as 'evil' to one being may not be perceived as 'evil' to another.

And then there was the simple fact that light would not exist if darkness did not. And while few feared the light which illuminated their faults, many feared the darkness that veiled their eyes from much they never wished to see...the darkness that brought them the gift of sleep so they were reenergized for a new day...the darkness that they feared simply because of the mysteries it entails.

This place was familiar to me; after all, I had spent much of my waking hours gazing out into the continent. And yet, despite my constant exposure, the place still felt...foreign. The smooth platform beneath my feet was common due to the many times I had stood upon the even stone, mined Celestine, Obsidian and Rhodonite melted together and polished smooth.

It was a rather...odd combination, considering the situation at that time. Rhodonite formed the foundation layers, being the source of the pinkish glow that was identical to the Rose Morning Star overhead. It was a gem through which love vibrated, and in all honesty, would have suited the captive Celestial more than the ruling one. Love was, after all, Ophanimon's domain. Sometimes, I wondered the significance of it, but it was at that point, useless wanderings, and I never spared much afterthought to it.

Celestine was the stone of heaven, and it too was symbolic of love, though at a lesser level. It was supposed to be a cleanser, a purifier of the impurities of evil, and yet, looking back, I could see how the taint of evil ran through the crystalline structure, and deep down, weakened its foundations as the values upon which it was built was weakened as well.

Obsidan lightly coated the inner passages and rooms, being majorly responsible for the illumination of the castle with the reflecting light of the three moons, its glassy lustre forming a mirrored surface. It is also said to be the stone of the soft and gentle, and to block feelings of negativity, though I for one have never seen any proof of these claims. It does, however, project a slight aura of darkness, the absence of light from its depths projecting a protective energy into which one could simply melt into and become invisible...provided, of course, they fear not the shadows that keep them safe from harm. Despite its colour, it favoured neither darkness nor light; in fact, it chose to bear the face of neutrality, while almost all others chose one side of the other. Either the path of darkness and the decree of Lord Cherubimon, or the path of light, the one upon which those humans tread.

Together, they formed a barrier of peace, security and tranquillity. Or else, they would have, had the corruption not run so deep as to affect the very foundations. Of course, it was only after all of this that I realised that, and understood...the others didn't, they hadn't seen the castle as I had, hadn't felt the power running through my veins, spreading from my fingertips, the power of the elements, darkness stronger than all; it was, after all, my element...but most importantly, they hadn't seen the symbolism. As much as the nature of the castle contradicted Lord Cherubimon's facade, or at least, the one he projected at that time, the castle was still an image of his true nature.

I turned my gaze to the Dark Gate once more, and was only mildly surprised to find the silhouettes of five humans and two digimon within the barriers of the land of Darkness. Anyone else would have skirmished the borders, knowing the reputation of this land. And yet it seems as though the 'no survivors' information had either not reached their ears, or else had not deterred them.

But in any case, they had arrived practically on my doorstep. Light was my adversary by nature, but neither that human, nor any of the others were consequential to me. Or rather, then they weren't. But perhaps it was time for me to tempt the happenings of this world with my own hand.

'After all,' I mused, turning to re-enter the castle. 'Those young humans are beginning to become quite an annoyance. They need to be restrained.'

Author's Notes

The information on the stones came, naturally, from the internet and random books, and I chose those three in particular mostly because of their symbolism, and the pink-purple colour they projected once combined. The minerals are actually quite strong, so I don't doubt that they would have been able to support the frame, and when it begins to crumble in episode 16: The Swiss Family Digimon, and actually does pretty much collapse in episode 36: Ice Ice Baby, I chose to relate the weakening of the mineral structure to the weakness of the actual values that they represented, ie. Kindness and love to cite two examples. And because it was Cherubimon's castle, the majority of the power it projected came from Cherubimon himself, though the warriors did contribute their fair share, which is why Duskmon can feel his own 'tainted' darkness in the walls rather than the pure one. Though the elemental spheres are also influencing that, so Duskmon did get a bit mixed up. Kinda hard to pick up though since it is after all, written in Duskmon's POV.

With the element symbolisms, once again subjective, but that's what happen with first person POV. Light and darkness will be explored in more detail later on, but the others will only be scratching the surface, perhaps in the next chapter, but not too much after that.

And that brings us to somewhere or other in the middle of episode 20: From Dawn to Duskmon. See ya all next time.