Thanks to everyone who decided to come back and read this story!
Chapter 3- Undying Unknown
A sharp knock reverberates through a large chasm, sound waves bouncing off the stone walls. Shadows leap around the chasm, dancing an alluring dance with the flickering flames of four feeble torches. As the small flames spark, flaring and roaring a sinister song, the dark shadows retreat, letting their partner grace the dance floor. But as soon as the song sizzles away, the darkness washes back over the floor, turning the tune to a mournful note as it twists and turns, gracefully gliding along. And so the four partners dance, one letting the other shine in the spotlight before swiftly taking their place. Sashaying across the floor, twisting, turning, and throwing their partners in an elaborate set of steps to the sizzling tune of the burning fuel.
And from a perch atop an obsidian throne, a pokemon regally sits, watching the flames and shadows leap and fade, dancing their elaborate dance. He observes their dance, watching as the two elements move synchronized with each other, leaping and gliding along to the crackling tune of the music. It is a strange phenomenon, how light and darkness, seemingly meant to hate each other, can dance to the same tune.
The tune of fire.
A crackling, burning tune that sounded a ferocious melody. A melody of hunger and devastation. A melody that warned of the innocent sparks that could chew up and spit out the things that so many pokemon loved. He loved that melody. It was the only thing he felt he could truly enjoy, and yet it was if he was destined to hate it. All his life the crackling tune of fire was the only thing that comforted him, but now his body hated it. Loathed it. Felt that whatever happened he had to destroy it. And he hated it. Hated that he could no longer enjoy what he loved. But if he could no longer enjoy it, no one else could either.
Once more the knock reached the pokemon's ears, a sharp rap of the paw on a grand stone door. Most of the grand double door was made of inky black obsidian, dark swirls of smooth stone that seemed to steal all the heat from your body when touched, yet still remained icy cold. Yet in the center of all this, large streaks of granite raced through, reaching to touch the ceiling before slicing down again. With each stretch that the gleaming granite made, it got closer and closer to touching the top of the door, in its efforts creating an image resembling a flame. But it never did make it to the top. Life was often that way. No matter how hard you strove to reach your goal, you would never make it. Some things were just impossible, and in this way the hand of fate was cruel.
The pokemon sitting on his obsidian throne looked up from the dance of light and dark. His body was engulfed in an icy haze, gleaming crystals waiting upon his beck and call. The haze hid most of his features, but here and there a white ridge could be seen, and always in an icy glare, cold, black eyes shimmered. The throne itself was made of swirling obsidian, a stone that seemed to steal all light that came near.
The pokemon concentrated on the door, and his sinister eyes began to glow a deep purple. A similar glow engulfed the door, glinting off fiery gems embedded in it to create an eerie maroon light that joined in the dance to the sizzling song. Slowly, the doors were opened, the floor groaning and creaking under their weight. The pokemon smiled to himself as he did so. A slow, devious grin. What genius it was to create these doors! For these stone doors could only be opened by himself, and thus none could enter or leave without his bidding, and he would be safe in the confines of the unbreakable walls, where no paw could touch him without his will. Some might call his suspicion paranoia. He called it the reason he was still alive.
The knocker entered the room, torchlight pouring in from the corridor behind him, joining the dance with the four original pairs. She was a zorua, and one quite unlike all the others. Against her neck was a spotted, gray pebble, held safely on woven cord. Her shadowy black fur absorbed all light that dare enter the area, creating the image of a perpetual shadow. What wasn't a deep black was a scarlet red, the only color that revealed her presence. It spread around her neck and atop her eyes, adding definition to her features where there wasn't any. The scarlet red also leapt atop the fur on her head and graced her feet momentarily, accenting deadly claws on otherwise friendly paws. And last of all, a spark of red painted the edges of her perpetual grin, matching perfectly the playful eyes of the zorua.
Padding softly behind the zorua was a persian, silky cream fur mixed with a smoky gray, as if her pelt was stained with an ashy smoke. She held herself with an arrogant air, head high, shoulders back as sharp claws hid dangerously behind unassuming paws. Though twice the size of her shadowy comrade, the Persian was of a lower rank, forcing her to walk submissively behind the zorua.
Despite the crimson shadows' outwardly playful demeanor, she shivered inside. Much of the room the zorua had just entered was not covered in shadows, but rather in complete darkness. The contents of this darkness where unknown to her, and deep inside her subconscious the shadowy zorua was scared of it. Like most on her planet, the unknown held a primal fear with it. Every time something unknown appeared, the subconscious part of their minds created fearful images of what could happen. There could be an attacker lurking within it, ready to lash out with sharp claws, or perhaps a poison of some kind seeping through the stony walls. Granted, most of this was unlikely, but whatever the zorua's conscious said to the subconscious, she couldn't shake away that the dangers could be real.
The shadowy zorua took the last, fearful step into this dark room, and the large, cold doors creaked shut behind her. Just as quickly as the light had come when the doors opened, it vanished as they closed, leaving only the four original partners left in the room. As the purple light diminished the king sitting atop his throne turned his icy glare to the zorua who had entered the room. The zorua bowed, legs shaking slightly as she let her face fall to the floor. It was a routine she had performed many times, but the thought of relaying bad news caused her more than her fair share of stress. Despite this, though, the zorua let her devious grin play on her face as she awaited the gift of speaking to be given to her. If she couldn't worm her way out of this one, she didn't know who could, especially not the ignorant persian who had walked in behind her.
The zorua did not wait long in her shaky stance, as the king called out from his throne, his voice as apt to bring shivers down a subjects back as the cold obsidian they stood on was. "I am awaiting your news, general," the king snarled, his icy eyes glaring at the feeble zorua bowing before him.
"We carried out the raid on the eastern plains tribe as you wished, sire. I took the pleasure of beginning the blaze myself and had our shadow troops take the villagers as they fled from the fire," despite the zorua's inward fright, she let her voice echo across the room, no fear in its tone, and the king narrowed his eyes in suspicion. After a moment's thought, he called out, this time aiming his sneer at the persian who had entered the room along with the general, as if mocking the cat. "And who did you capture this time?" the king sneered, an icy haze forming around his body as he accented "who" and "this" with a spiteful tone.
"Two trubbish, a mincinno, a few rattata, two raticate, a ponyta and rapidash, an espeon, an eevee, and two fletchling nesting in a nearby tree," this time, despite the zorua's best efforts, her voice carried a hint of fear, and the king's suspicion grew. His suspicion quickly turned to surprise at the last few pokemon listed.
"And what, might I ask, are two members of the eevee family doing in the plains village?" he hissed, watching the zorua squirm under his gaze. The king, of course, already knew the answer, but hearing it for himself from one of his highest ranking generals gave him a hint of pleasure.
"Oh yes, please, tell us," the persian that had been listening in behind the zorua hissed as he stood from his seat and prowled around the still bowing zorua, almost smirking at the king, as if winning an untold bet. "I would really like to know how there are two members of the eevee family roaming free out there. After all, didn't the great General B destroy them all? Wasn't it her task to imprison every last one of them for our king? Boy, I really would hate it if the general who got all the praise for such a job well done… didn't actually do it correctly in the first place." The persian's voice was laced with sarcasm as it hissed along, clearly enjoying the scene. After all, if the most praised general in her king's army had made such a terrible mistake, then surely she would rise higher in the ranks because of it. "Now then, look our king in the eyes and please, tell us how that must have occurred" as the persian said those words, she took a single, sharp, gleaming claw, placing it beneath the bowed zorua's neck and forcing the shadowy pokemon's head up.
The zorua gulped, glancing nervously at the persian's claw before replying, thinking fast "Surely, lord, it is impossible for me to find them all. One unnoticed egg, and there is a new eevee in the ranks of pokemon. Besides, I wasn't the one who was supposed to track them down." The zorua glanced at the persian as she said those words, before continuing. "Plus, you have been a bit sour lately. A new playmate might do you good."
The persian smirked as the zorua started talking, ignoring the crimson shadows words all-together in her confidence as she carefully observed the generals features. Her confident gaze turned to a glare as she noticed the zorua's playful eyes and smile, irked that she couldn't wipe them from that pokemon's face. No matter, the persian thought. She was still going to milk this for all it was worth, for it was rare that the persian got a chance to play with the other generals. "What a disappointment. Maybe I should be the highest ranking general instead, I certainly do my job right." However, the smirk was wiped off the persian's face as she felt the cold, disapproving stare of her master. She retracted her claw and slowly backed off, painfully hitting her rear end against the cold door. "I was, uh, just joking with her, sire. I-I'm sure you could understand, right?"
The king looked down at his two generals with disapproving glares, before icily ordering the persian to be silent, giving the cat a mocking grin.
Drinking in the icy mist that surrounded him, the king's cold voice once more bounced off the rooms walls. "Very well, General B. I will forgive you this once, if only because now I have another prisoner to play with. But tell me. Your mission was to recapture prisoner A-4709, who was reported to be in the area. I trust you did just that?"
The king allowed himself a small smile as again he watched his best general squirm. "Well, umm, no sire. The soldiers report that prisoner A-4709 was last seen escaping into the forest. They would have taken chase, but the eevee we captured held them off for just long enough that he, uh, got away."
The room wavered in a dangerous silence as the mist around the king thickened, hiding his presence completely. Muttering punishing words, the king leapt from his throne, pacing around his general, whispering in his ears. For the first time, the zorua's smile slipped from his grasp as he listened to words known only to the crimson shadow and his king.
Returning to his throne with the flick of his tail, the king gave one last order to the generals before beckoning their leave, "You two disappoint me. Send the two fletchlings and the ponyta family to the chamber and keep the eevee and espeon in the caverns. Tell Joker to continue with normal protocol for the fletchlings and ponyta family. As for you, take General E with you. You will hunt down prisoner A-4709 and bring it to me. Do whatever it takes, but don't return here without it, or the weight of letting a prisoner escape will be on your heads. Now go! Leave at once, and don't come back until you have it in your clutches, or you might just end up losing it like everyone else."
"What about the others," the zorua asked, ice crystals clinging to her body as she let the mischievous grin return.
"Whatever you wish," the king slowly said, a hint of a smile peering through the icy haze, "they are yours to play with it."
Moments later all that was left of the generals' presences were a few melting ice crystals as they raced down the hall to do their job.
The king sat back on his icy throne, conversing quietly with someone even though he seemed to be the only one in the room. "Was General B telling the truth?"
"Yes, sire," the voice whispered, an unnoticeable mocking in its chilling tone, "but she left out one important detail. The eevee that was captured…"
The king looked surprised as the voice continued, leaning in to catch every last detail, for the first time that day, no suspicion crossing his face. When the conversation ended, he leapt from his throne, stalking out of the room.
"And where might you be going?" the voice eerily questioned.
"To the caverns. It's time I had some fun."
Pickle finally sat, giving up her search for something in this cavernous room. Shivering, the eevee warily glanced about, unable to penetrate the darkness with just her eyes as a guide. She felt as if a million hostile eyes were stalking her. Watching, waiting just beyond her reach for the perfect moment to end their little game. The white-eared eevee flattened herself to the floor, attempting to find comfort in the solid ground beneath her. But the icy ground just chilled the eevee more, as if its sole purpose in this world was to steal away the eevee's life, bit by bit digging into her with sharp, freezing talons.
For the first time the eevee felt as if a tremendous pressure had been put upon her shoulders, as if she was the famed god Atlas, destined to forever hold the weight of the world. The eevee feebly reached into the air once more, weary paws forced to dance a cruel dance as they endlessly searched for something known. Something that the eevee could grasp onto and hold close as the world fast rushed by her frightened face. But there was nothing there. Only swirling, dark air, stagnant in taste and empty of any odor but her own, filled with a chilling silence that bit at her swiveling ears and nipped at her weary paws. A silence that caused shivers to prick along her back, filled only with the sound of her own echoing footsteps and lonely cries, feeble trickles of sound that wasted away in the cavern, filled with empty longing destined never to be fulfilled.
The eevee felt as if she was the only being in a cavern of ravenous shadows and desperate, chilling, unwelcoming air.
Pickle finally settled in a flat spot on the chilling ground, head upon her paws, muscles tense, eyes endlessly searching for things it can't see, unable to suppress the ancient, fearful feeling that caused her ears to endlessly perk, searching for any clues that someone was out there. Forcing her mind away from the cavern, Pickle recalled the battle that seemed to have occurred so long ago, so far away. She had known the two fletchling, often seen them flit through the sky with careless abandon. Star and Sprite, she recalled, where their names, two siblings who often fought as they flew through the sky, but always seemed to be friends when they returned to the ground below.
The little eevee hoped that she and Peanut would be the same way if they ever fought. It was strange. Most people said friendships grew stronger over struggles shared together, but they never seemed to fight at all. Only once had the two eevees argued, but neither of them truly meant what they said and their fight fizzled out. The incident was small, but she remembered it well. She remembered every harsh word they said to each other, and the long moments of separation that followed. Recalling the memory wasn't pleasant, but it was something that lingered in her mind, unable to be pushed away. It was the one time where she had forgotten forethought, leaving her saying whatever wished to leap from her mouth without really thinking about the results.
The white tipped ear softly slipped down the eevee's head, fear left in the dust as regret took its place. The little eevee had never truly forgiven herself for what she said, and certainly never forgot it. Forgiving her friend was a lot easier, but for some reason, the little eevee could never really forgive herself. Maybe… her friend had never really forgiven her either. It was certainly hard to tell if someone meant something when they said it, or actually felt the emotions that they portrayed. Maybe Peanut had never forgiven her at all…
Without the little eevee realizing, her ears had begun to droop in a special kind of sorrow. Regret and doubt, mixed into a swirling brew that threatened to cleanse the eevee's cavernous conscious off the one thing that only true friendship could be built off of. Trust.
Remembering the pebble, Pickle pulled the shining stone from her fur, sorrow tinging the happy memory as the eevee ran her paw along the edge. Laughter leaped from the pebble, chasing away the chilling silence that roamed free in Pickle's mind, forever memories that had been frightened away. Resting her cheek against the pebble, Pickle was filled with an undying warmth that spread from her cheek and down to her paws, drifting softly to the tip of her tail. In this undying unknown, here was something she knew.
Rough paws appeared from a hole beneath a great tree, softly digging their way into the unknown. The face of an eevee appeared beneath the rubble, the right half stolen of its fur by scorching flames, salty stains running down the bare skin from a cry long-gone in the midst of the morning. Peanut emerged from her den, glancing fearfully for signs of life before giving a long stretch to her aching muscles. Only hours ago, the dark veil of night had sent her fleeing, smoke rising in a spiral as the frightened eevee ran from everything she knew, to a forest that was forever the unknown, lurking dauntingly on the horizon.
The eevee's ears twitched nervously as she cautiously returned the way she came, unable to resist the urge to go back home. Upon reaching the edge of the forest, though, the eevee stopped, her body unable to leave the cover that had hidden her the night before. Instead the eevee strained her eyes to see the broken skeleton of a village, smoke brewing in clouds above, remnants of an ancient past.
As the sun rose, witnessing what had occurred during the inky protection of night's dark blanket, large salmon-colored streaks lit up the dawning sky, spiraling inwards as if in a silently weeping hurricane. Between these soft, salmon streaks, a dark, blue-ish gray resided as the blue sky tried to shine through the smoky mist, remnants of the foreboding clouds of ash and smoke. It was the sun's last laments, a mournful signal to show what had befallen the last town of the plains tribe. A subtle weeping as the sun spread mournful light over a village forever in ashes.
The sun rose higher, mixing the salmon streaks with the ash-blue mist. It had grieved for the town. A long, sorrowful weep. But it was time for the sun to move on. To rise higher and shine light on those who are shrouded in darkness, until finally it was time to rest in the night. And as it lays to rest, the same salmon streak will once more light up the sky. A final song for all who have been lost during its silent reign.
Peanut stood, silently grieving as she softly towards her scarred face back towards the valley. It was time for her to move on too, for if she wasted all her time on tears there would be nothing left to keep her alive, and alive she would be when her friend returned. If her friend returned.
The scarred eevee walked into the forest, leaving her devastated home to the whispering wind, with the watchful sun at her back, softly padding on her own weeping shadow as she left forever into the undying unknown.
Well, that was... interesting. Keep on reading and writing, and please review! There is no way for me to get better as a writer without it.
