Author's Notes
This chapter gives you a major hint as to what's going to happen, the first segment especially.
And if you look really closely, you'll find I've actually given enough information to piece together who the absolute "evil guy/girl/digimon" in this story is. If you can't figure it out, take a closer look at the descriptions.
Currency in the digital world is bits/bytes, eight bits are equivalent to one byte which is equivalent to about 77 yen (that's AUS$1, don't know the other countries conversions. Why would I? I'm Australian, and so I use Australian Dollars. Story is partially set in Japan, so I use yen, and in digital world, so I made up a currency, seeing as though digidollars was already used in the second season.)
I don't like Angler in the English dub (he's like too babyish), so I'm taking the liberty of changing his personality a little. Though Worm is classic, so he stays.
Oh, by the way, I made a mistake with the time skip. It was supposed to be after this chapter, seeing as though an explanation is needed.
And I was writing an English commentary simultaneously with this chapter (well, to be exact, two commentaries at different times), so I was in that mind-frame while writing this. Hence the symbolisms and more oblique clues as to what's going to happen.
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or the butterfly analogy. All I own is my writing and my trusty laptop.
Enjoy everyone.
Butterflies' Flight
AU. Like butterflies, they followed the flame, drawn to his light, despite that fact that following so blindly could potentially lead to corruption. And yet they shy away from the dark, the one thing that may save them yet...
Takuya K & Kouichi K
Chapter 2 – Justifying the Means
Minamoto Kouji was so absorbed in his thoughts that upon exiting the tunnel, he showed more surprised at what he saw than he would have in most other circumstances. Naturally enough, his usual stoic expression slipped on soon enough; after all, it wouldn't do for him to display a sign of weakness, despite in his current seclusion in the interior of his chosen mode of transport, there was no-one that could have seen.
Most would interpret his greatest sin as pride, though in actual fact it was far less him than another which few would at first glance associate the term with. That is not to say that he was not proud; he was, all were. However his pride, though appearing great, was in reality not overtly experienced; his demeanour was simply often misinterpreted as such.
The misconceived mask simply served as a shield from the outer world. His own defence mechanism, though perhaps he would not have needed it had there not been a large hole in his heart that needed filling, and his soul as well. The small part which had left him vulnerable, and so to protect himself, he covered it with a cold apathy which became his masquerade in all but his deepest dreams in which no facade could remain whole.
The dreams of which he retained no memory during his waking hours...though they plagued him in his loneliness at night. The nightmares left him bewildered upon his awakening; the sheets were always bunched up, half hanging off the bed and soaked with sweat, while his hair was dishevelled, making him look far younger than he actually was, especially when contrasted with his usual visage. And yet he remained ignorant as to the events which could have caused them.
Especially as the lonely nights of darkness always passed by in silence as he tried to grab something that was out of his reach.
He shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable as the landscape raced past his line of sight only to be replaced with a new scene. He barely paid heed to it, his thoughts wandering to the phone message he had received, and the reasons as to him accepting the offer presented.
He was sceptical by nature, and one who dealt with facts, though being a martial artist meant his intuition was quite sharp and thus reliable as well. However, he most certainly was not one to jump onto the Volkswagen without a clear indication of what he was getting himself into, and if the doubts and questions that flew through his head with each passing moment was any indication, it would appear as though he did not have a clear understanding about what lay ahead when he chose to accept.
And those doubts weren't sitting too well, so to speak. Because while he was compelled to continue, something else was compelling him to turn back. Not from the path upon which his feet were firmly planted, but from one of the two as they forked out in the near future.
But only the future would be able to tell him which path was the right one in the end. One could only hope that he would walk the right one, else someone else may wind up paying the price for his mistake...or that of the eye blinded by light and flame.
The sudden euphoria which erupted from the attained victory soon enough dispelled as they became aware of exactly what had just happened. Namely the fact that they had witnessed a murder, and worse, one of them had actually been the executioner.
Takuya stood. For a moment, the shock froze his blood, till he remembered the black eyes that had stared at him, the ruthless adversary which had aimed to tear him to shreds and would not have hesitated to do so to carry out the duty prescribed to him. It was self defence, he told himself. Who knew what other damage that, whatever it was, could have done to get what he wanted. Who knew what he had already done. He didn't even pause to consider the fact that he had in fact been the one to provoke the other, claiming something that, although technically having the right as it was under the guardianship of the one who had called them to her world, needed to be destroyed in order to reveal the broken and tainted world upon which corruption and evil dwelled and steadily grew as goodness in the end could not help but be twisted and deformed by it. He failed to consider exactly what he was fighting for, and if his cause was really the right one, as he was a boy who trusted his instincts always, and instinct led him to acceptance and the cleansing of the initial guilt, though he failed to realise it was warped to the point where it was unrecognisable and yet recognised without change.
The others, the humans that is, simply stared on, till their attention was attracted to the strange device the brunette still hand in his hand, the screen flashing blue as it emitted a systematic beeping.
Confused, the one holding it watched as the others, despite their distance, backed away, save the white gnome and yellow rabbit, both of whom approached rather enthusiastically, the latter being dragged along by the waistband of his pants.
'I suppose the binary code needs to be rendered,' the gnome stated, once it became apparent that Takuya was at a loss as to what to do.
'Rendered?'
'The black button on the far right.' The creature pointed to the said small black button, and the gloved hand descended upon it immediately, not even pausing to assess the trustworthiness of the one giving the instructions as he felt somewhere in the back of his mind that they were trustworthy.
The device beeped again, more cheerily this time, as binary code ran across the screen before transferring itself like a thin and almost transparent stream of zeroes and ones, running across the damaged platform before replacing the outer layers. More entranced by the light itself, those staring at it failed to notice the newly fashioned metal simply formed over the melted and dilapidated crevice, hiding the damage as opposed to mending it. It was a temporary fix; after all, the new barrier covering the truth will deteriorate in time, revealing the destruction beneath as its condition depreciates further as time passes during its captivity in the darkness that protects knowledge of it from the world.
As it was, the beauty of the display as the code rewrote the structure made it possible for them to forget the raw impact of their witness. It hadn't taken a permanent hold on their minds, and as a consequence, it was far easier to wash over the raw wounds with honey and sooth them then allow them to heal (and hurt) at their own accord. After all, in their view, the monster could have destroyed them all, so he, Takuya, was justified in the killing. And in taking the initiative while in possession of the power to do so...well, one may soon see the consequences of such action.
'What was that?' Tomoki breathed, the others having finally come over to the boy who was currently supporting himself on one knee.
It was the white gnome who answered. 'A digimon.'
He received four blank looks in return. 'Um...what the heck is a digimon?' Takuya asked, once the silence stretched. 'And who are the two of you for that matter?'
'Ah, right.' The talker appeared the slightest bit embarrassed. 'The introductions. I am Bokomon, keeper of the Book of Knowledge.'
'And I am Neemon, keeper of my pants,' the yellow rabbit cheered, before the said pants was snapped to his stomach again by the waistband.
The children registered those names to memory as they introduced themselves as well, choosing to walk to a more ample location for discussion as Bokomon led them out of the station as he explained the nature of Digimon.
'Digimon are artificial intelligence programmes which have evolved beyond the limitations of the humans who originally created them...'
And as he continued his explanation as the group of six stepped over the threshold of the station-like structure, they failed to notice the train-like creature which was slowing to a stop just before the newly repaired rails.
The train, or what the bandana-wearing boy assumed to be a train, decelerated its speed as it neared a steel structure which represented a station, though not nearly as elaborate as Shibuya's or Jiyugaoka's, though it certainly had a distinct architecture, what with the large boiler in the centre and all.
The tracks at least looked normal, from both perspectives as Kouji stared expressionlessly out the window and the train, in fact another Trailmon by the name of Angler, had his eyes fixated on the rails, judging speed, distance and applying enough pressure in order to stop safely.
Or at least until the railing under the front wheel fell away, and the blue train automatically slammed on the breaks in order to prevent itself from getting stuck, switching almost immediately into reverse gear to get the wheel out of the small hole even as his only passenger was thrown off his seat from the jerking.
A screeching sound echoed, though quiet enough to remain in the local vicinity of the station tracks as the train managed to get all its appendages onto solid ground again and Kouji, slightly irritated, though the irritation immediately dispelled when he discovered the cause, picked himself up and disembarked.
'Where did that come from?' he asked, confused upon seeing a part of the rails burnt away. He was sure it had been perfectly normal, staring at from the window.
'I couldn't tell ya,' the train commented, much to the boy's surprise, although he did an admirable job at hiding it. 'Though this certainly is not my idea of an uneventful job.'
Kouji chose to remain silent as the train examined its right wheel. 'It was an uneventful job,' it muttered ruefully, eyeing the chip that had resulted. 'I just got them replaced too. There goes another few hundred more bytes down the drain. Though why wheel replacements have to be so expensive, I'll never know.' He looked up suddenly, seemingly remembering that he as in company. 'Sorry 'bout that,' he apologized. 'Doesn't normally happen on jobs.'
This time, a trace of confusion flickered on his expression, before vanishing. 'Who are you?' he asked bluntly, thinking it rather impolite should he use the word 'what' as opposed to 'who', seeing as he appeared to be a 'being' rather than a 'creature' considering the obvious display of individual thought and legible communication, and the slight pain which showed on the blue face as it toed its chipped wheel.
'Oh don't tell me I've got a bruise too,' the train exclaimed. Then he caught sight of the raised eyebrow aimed at him. 'Oh right, introductions. I'm a Digimon, a Trailmon to be specific. Angler at your service.'
Angler tried to bow, but failed as the area around the right frontal wheel still seemed a little tender.
'Minamoto Kouji,' the boy muttered sourly, not too happy at receiving more confusion as an answer.
'Let me guess, explanation time?' the blue Trailmon inquired.
The slightly more attentive look was enough of an answer.
'Digimon are artificial intelligence programmes,' Bokomon explained once they had, after a few complications, settled themselves into the white gnome's home in the Flame Terminal, 'which have evolved beyond the limitations of the humans who originally created them into a race of beings on its own, capable of self-sustainment within a world which evolved from a mere shadow of the human world.'
He stopped upon seeing the five blank looks he received in return. 'Well, we're data, simply put,' he sighed. 'Though that doesn't even begin to skim the edges of the complexities of-'
'All right,' Takuya interrupted, getting slightly irritated from the long winded and complicated answer which was sure to follow. 'We get it. Digimon are data.'
Bokomon coughed, professionally hiding his own annoyance. 'Ahem, yes, well, the point is that there is more to digimon than simply data. Just like there is more to humans than flesh and blood.'
'So then you all have feelings too.' Tomoki asked, the unwanted images returning as it occurred to him that there might not be that much of a difference between them and the creature they just killed. 'And live and die like we do?'
'Well,' the white gnome digimon attempted to explain. 'That's where things get complicated. We feel, but not necessarily in the sense of human emotion. We live, but in essence, we cannot die. After all, despite the complexities that are wrought on the existence of all digimon, their core is essentially data, as is their form, so the data returns to the framework of the digital world from where it originally stems while the specific coding for the individual is stored in the Primary Database where it is reformatted and eventually released as an egg into the Village of Beginnings.'
'So...they're just reborn?' Junpei question, attempting to catch the gist of the waffle.
'So to speak,' Bokomon sighed, finding it rather difficult to illustrate the nature of both the digital world and those who lived upon it to those who have, till then, known no other world save the one from which they arrived. 'But all that is irrelevant!' he exclaimed. 'The Digital World is in peril! You must help us!'
'In peril?' Neemon questioned, as if doubting the validity of the other's words.
A sudden explosion proved him wrong, so to speak.
'Well, best of luck chum,' Angler said as a farewell, reversing carefully before accelerating, returning to his schedule after bringing his human ex-passenger up to speed.
Said human was none too pleased with the rather confusing explanation, but was forced to take it all in stride, seeing as though, according to the blue Trailmon in any case, the connection between the two worlds had overloaded and temporarily cut itself off in order to rejuvenate.
Having only some vague directions to go along with, he left the platform, and then the station, taking stock of the environment and the decay it presented below the beautiful surface. It seemed more an illusion of grandeur than much more.
There was nothing visually deficient, save the burnt part of the rails and the hole it caused. It was more the feeling it promoted, the small, nagging sense of doubt at the back of his mind-
He was jerked out of his thoughts as a bright light suddenly consumed his vision, warming his body as though an internal heater had been switched on, followed by a large shadow suddenly looming over him. Martial arts training kicking in, he dove to the side, ducking through the mouth of a conveniently placed cave before hiding in the shadows of it himself.
There, little light penetrated the darkness, and that unnerved him. The doubts amplified in the darkness; while the calling became stronger than ever, the doubt overpowered that. Not against the calling, but for another, the one a part of him, at the same time, repulsed. Something that seemed at dark as the darkness itself, like a small whisper in the breeze who had always existed, always called, but always been ignored...
His sharp ears picked up movement and he glanced out of the mouth, finding himself uncharacteristically startled at the sludge dripping off the hillside into which the cave dug, corroding the dirt barrier as acid corrodes anything it touches. He backed off again, a wise move, as within seconds, the thin roots which webbed together and held the fragments of soil together burnt away into nothingness, causing the heavier rocks which encased the cave's mouth, and the plantation that grew around it, along with the dirt curtain, to collapse as its support was removed, plunging the cave into almost complete darkness as a deafening roar, resulting due to a combination of the creature's, whom he assumed to be a "digimon" seeing as though he was supposedly in a "digital" world, and the landslide which was occurring, the rocks thundering down like a storm of bricks.
Only the thinnest of trickles still remained to show a path to a lost soul. Light which guided, which shed truth, while at the same time altered memory and emotion. Darkness held truth, light released it as it saw fit, or strayed one from the path, like the butterfly following the flame of destruction to its inevitable end. Or like the fly caught in the spider's web.
It was a beacon, a path in the never ending darkness. It felt warm, trustworthy, a part of him...but the darkness did too. The darkness which hid him, shielded him from those red eyes, while keeping him safe in the sanctuary where little light could pierce, but still, he preferred light. Preferred the defensive wall over the soft blanket of security in which he could never make himself too comfortable for reasons he then did not know.
And so he followed the light, truly blind to both his final abode, and another's to whom he sent to his doom by his own hand...or soon will. Holistically, it was the same thing in the end. Whether it had already occurred or soon will was irrelevant. What mattered was the inevitability of the events which had already been kick-started by the flame destined to lead them all.
'What are those Poyomon doing?' Bokomon wondered aloud, watching with interest as the white jelly-like creatures fled into the forest.
'Running away,' Neemon input helpfully, earning himself a snap on the waistband for his rather redundant statement. After all, that was quite obvious, the mass of white vanishing into the trees as fast as a group of jelly blobs (at least, that was what they looked like to the five children) seemed to be able to.
But as to why they were running away, the group was at a lost, until they turned in the opposite direction and saw the landslide. The stench of decay filled the air, and a greenish substance still tricked down the side of the collapsed rock formation, burning away the graphite finish and creating dentures in the solid surface as it ran.
Most of the rubble was covered by a slimy, repulsing looking creature which looked, so to speak, like the insides of a garbage can, and its stench served to reinforce that notion.
'That would be Raremon,' the gnome read, revealing his book to be open to a page with a sketch of the creature in front of them. 'A virus digimon. Champion level. Found in the sewers, and if the smell of its rotting flesh doesn't knock you out, its acid sludge attack will.' He shuddered soon after at the thought.
'How do you know that?' the rabbit questioned, clueless as ever, or so he appeared.
'Oh, don't ask stupid questions,' the other muttered, unfortunately a little too loud as it alerted the Raremon to their presence.
'Acid sludge!' he roared, firing a stream of green acid from his mouth. The six immediately dove to avoid it, hearing the cry of several Poyomon behind them as the remnants struck their fleeing backs. The acid melted through their jelly-like bodies, the young digimon screaming as pain clouded their mind and their bodies disintegrated into the soil, binary code running across their skin before fading into the ground beneath them as the remaining scraps of data-skin scattered in the slight wind.
The digimon immediately backed away at its mistake. Having been commanded to destroy the spirits by any means necessary, he had fired when he had felt the spirit of light, then again when sensing the spirit of flame. Both attacks had missed their targets, and while the first only resulted in collateral damage, casualties occurred as a result of the second, innocent digimon who had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Takuya turned, device in hand, rage clouding rationale even as the Raremon regretted its mistake. Within an instant, binary code had encircled him, and with the passing of another, Agunimon was locked in combat with the virus type.
'How is the world does he do that?' Izumi asked, still somewhat in awe despite the repeated shock of seeing death twice in the same day, but whether due to denial or something else, the majority of her attention was focused on the evolution which had taken place in front of her; the difference between the fiery brunette who had the tenacity to wind up in an awkward position with a girl the same age and not know its implications, and the warrior burning with a fiery passion as it attempted to destroy the threat in front of them and avenge the innocent deaths, though according to Bokomon, currently their only source of information, their data would be rejuvenated eventually. Or so they make themselves believe in a fool's hope; none wanted to bear such a burden on a laden heart.
'It's called Spirit Evolution,' Bokomon explained, flicking back a few pages to reveal a neatly made sketch of the red warrior into whom Takuya had transformed. 'He was able to transform into the Human Warrior of Flame by using the Human Spirit of Flame. I imagine the rest of you will be able to as well.'
'Oh...'
And they continued to watch the exchange of blows.
Kouji found himself wondering deeper and deeper into the labyrinth as he attempted to find the exit. Still, he followed the light, currently the only path he was willing to tread.
Or at least, until the roof fell away just behind him.
The fight continued. Agunimon lashed out, landing strike after strike, but the elasticity of the other's body prevented even a dent from occurring. To the best of his ability, the flame warrior dodged the spurts of acid, the attacks burning away bits of earth and flora as Raremon took care to avoid the remaining innocents. Fire occasionally shot out of the gauntlets, singing the grass and debris beneath them, and combined, the combat eventually caused the ground to give way, the two battlers falling as their feets' support gave way.
The boy found himself pressed against the wall in the limited room with two new occupants. One he recognized, the red eyed creature that had caused the entrance of what he had then assumed to be a cave to cave in. The other he did not.
In the minimal space, it was all too easy for attacks to go astray, as the Salamander Break missed its target and hit the space about Kouji's head, finally alerting the other to his presence.
'Hey,' he said aloud. 'You're that kid from the elevator.'
He didn't seem too thrilled. But then again, neither did the other as he saw passed the digimon armour to the boy beneath it.
'Oh great,' he groaned, annoyed. 'That gogglehead.'
And then another acid sludge fired towards them.
Takuya jumped, using the fallen debris as leverage to get back onto solid ground, while Kouji, not having the digital advance, was forced to duck as the wall behind him crumbed too. For a moment, the structure wavered, before the stone wall collapsed, and with it, the ground beneath him.
Light burst forth, even as he fell, enveloping him in its warm, yet harsh, embrace. The light burnt at his eyes, but at the same time widened them as even in the blank whiteness, he could see the outline of something else.
Something...which had been calling him all this time.
Light...
The spirit of light...
The words vibrated on his lips, even as he gave no conscious thought to them, the device he had acquired in lieu of his cellphone in his grip as he raised his hands towards the object even as it was observed.
The screen lit up, the symbol of light shining on it.
And then the words echoed, even as he did not consciously say them.
'Execute, Spirit Evolution. Wolfmon.'
The others, Raremon excluded, stared in horror as the rest of the ground collapsed. They had all seen the boy who had been there, and logically, there was no way he would survive a fall into so deep a crevice as that left by the assortment of attacks, which one could, upon very close inspection, deduce were all not new.
So, suffice to say, they were all extremely shocked as a warrior clothed predominantly in white, with the symbol of light engraved onto his right shoulder, rise out of the said crevice.
'That's Wolfmon,' Bokomon revealed in awe, after frantically flipping a few pages with a sketch of the said digimon. 'The Human Warrior of Light.'
The red eyes of Raremon darkened; he too had failed to destroy the spirit before it bonded. But his lord knew well the sacrifices that were needed. If lives needed to be sacrificed to save all, then it had to be done. After all, he could see the corruption of the land ran so deep that the world was no longer able to rejuvenate itself. The only way to heal the wounds was to destroy it utterly, so that it could be made whole once more.
As such, it was with absolutely no regret that he fired another acid sludge aimed directly for his heart, even as the other's heart burnt with guilt at deliberately seizing this premature life. However, Wolfmon instinctively extended twin Licht Seiger swords from each wrist, raising them jointly to block the sludge.
The swords parted. The attack faded. And then, neither of the two combatants moved for a moment. The second however, soon did, followed by the third who had been temporarily pushed to the sidelines with the new entry. Anticipating the attack as soon as the large mouth opened, he allowed flames, which now seemed more a part of him than anything else, to envelop his arms as they shimmered in the oxygen rich air and changed into a dragon.
'Burning Salamander,' he roared, releasing the flames held between his gauntlets, ignoring the other's cry of protest as the flames devoured the virus digimon. He screeched, a horrible, inhumane cry, as the fire burnt away his flesh, and all were forced to turn away as the skin peeled off to reveal the horror beneath, before that too faded away as the fire ended its journey of destruction.
Small, familiar, head-like creatures fell away, before they too vanished, though not fast enough to avoid being seen by the eldest in their group.
'Hey!' Junpei exclaimed. 'Those are the Pagumon that wanted my chocolate!'
No-one bothered gracing that with a reply.
Wolfmon fell to his knees, binary code swirling before leaving the bandana boy kneeling in his place. Takuya soon followed, rushing over to the other as soon as his own de-transformation was complete, only to be pushed away at the other's growl.
'Don't touch me.'
Whether it was because of the killing which, while somewhat necessary, could have been avoided through means of negotiation, or his own nature, or something else entirely, was anyone's guess. But while the barrier between them stood strong, it was only a matter of time before it crumbled into nothingness.
After all, fire was one of the primary sources of light. So where the flame went, eventually, the light would have to follow too.
And with it, the darkness that shadowed him.
Kouichi stirred awake slowly, trying to ignore the savage pounding in his head as he attempted to gain his bearings. Overhead, stars gleamed, though they were like none he had seen before, a constellation of a deep, violet that melted into the dark sky as opposed to separating from it.
It was beautiful. Hauntingly beautiful, even as the darkness stretched far. It felt safe, but still beneath, hidden from view, corruption lurked.
Thankfully, it was, at the present time, out of reach. Even as he had seen it before his eyes before his awakening, and would no doubt, see it again.
He sat up, finding himself stretched out on a luxuriously sized bed in what looked to be a combination of a study and a bedroom. Books lined one wall, while a large window occupied the opposing one, its curtains wide apart, outside which he could see the gleaming night sky.
On the desk beside the bed, a black cat-like creature was curled up, fast asleep. Though its sensitive hearing soon picked up the slight movement, and one yellow eye opened.
'Oh, hello,' she yawned, covering her mouth with a blue paw, before opening her other eye and hopping into his lap. 'Good to see you seem to be doing fine.'
Blue eyes blinked at the yellow ones.
'Ah,' she laughed. 'Seems to me you need an explanation.'
'That would be good,' he responded softly.
'So,' she began, making herself comfortable as the black-haired boy shifted to accommodate her. 'What do you know?'
'I know about the digimon,' he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, though that was perfectly normal for him conversing with one he knew little of. In fact, he generally barely talked at all to strangers, though the black cat was no human, and thus, an exception. 'And some of the digital world.'
'Okay,' the feline mused thoughtfully. 'Then I guess introductions are the first order of business.'
She then straightened up, causing the boy to squirm slightly, before it bowed deeply. 'I'm BlackTailmon,' she introduced, before straightening up.
'Kimura Kouichi,' the other blinked, bowing as well as he could in his position and with the pounding headache.
'Well,' the cat mused again. 'You might want to settle down Kouichi, because is going to be one long explanation. But I'm not the one explaining.'
'You're not?' Kouichi blinked again.
''course not,' BlackTailmon giggled, its black and purple striped tail flicking. 'Can't make things too easy on thy lord now can I?'
Laughing at the bewildered expression she received, she cupped her mouth, before hollering.
'Lord Cherubimon!'
Then she grinned at the boy in whose lap she lay back down it. 'Well, can't have you walking around now, so Lord Cherubimon will have to come to us.'
'Cherubimon-sama?'
'Oh, drop the suffixes hun,' the cat yawned. 'There aren't too many humans here. Unless it's a habit.'
She peered up at the other through her eyelashes as the other blushed slightly and stammered something.
'Habit,' she nodded. 'So it stays.'
Then the door to their side opened. 'Ah,' she greeted, opening her eyes. 'Lord Cherubimon.'
The discussion lasted well beyond sunrise, even as Cherubimon, after reprimanding his subordinate's cheek, took care to eliminate as much bias as possible from his explanation. Though he wasn't too pleased with the duty being loaded onto his shoulders, BlackTailmon was right. It was he who had brought the human into this world and tied his fate to the spirit while knowing he stood more a chance of surviving without it, so it was he who must explain his actions.
And in the end, leave the choice to him.
After all, just because he was bound to a corrupted spirit in order to sustain his own, it didn't mean that he would choose the path of corruption.
And being darkness, he may be the only one who could sway the path of the flame, which at the time, burnt strong.
