A/N- It's alive! ALIVE!
Yes, I am still here. I'm SO SORRY I haven't updated, but I've been struggling with the monsters known as-
MIDTERMS!
Oh, the banes of my existence. So much energy got put into them my brain was turned to mush at the end of this week. However, midterms also mean WINTER BREAK! I plan on updating each story, this one included, once more before I return to (prison) school early January. :)
Here comes Chapter 4!
Now, then. Shall we begin?
The Price of a Soul: Chapter 4
Latias flew through the air at speeds rivaling those of some human jets. The closer she got to the Hall of Origin, the faster the wind blew, blowing her red down back, caressing her streamlined form gently.
The wind was Latias' favorite part of flying. Her favorite time to fly was on autumn mornings, when grey clouds coated every corner of the sky. She never told anyone this, though. Due to her naturally perky personality, other Pokémon tended to think that her favorite weather was the classic stereotype; a cloudless, perfectly sunny day. While she did enjoy the times in the summer when Groudon's ability poked through, brisk, overcast autumn mornings were her true favorite.
This morning, on her journey to the Hall of Origin for the Meeting of Legends, was one such morning.
The cold air had a crispness to it that Latias could never describe. Breathing felt right; more right than anything else in the world. The grey clouds added to this feeling; and although dark clouds were typically seen as depressing, Latias found a sort of peaceful solace in them. The sky did not look like an endless domain belonging to Rayquaza; instead it was a cover, a cool blanket that seemed to slow down time. The world was suspended, and Latias would not have had it any other way.
Perhaps, if time actually did slow, she wouldn't be alone. She would still have her brother with her.
Latias felt tears well in her eyes. She knew wind was not the cause, and she did not slow down. Contrary to popular belief, however, Latias did not weep for her brother's death. Of course, there was the painful moment when his eyes closed for the final time. Then there were the subsequent days of sorrowful shock. But after that…
There was nothing. Latias no longer felt anything towards her brother's death, and that scared her more than anything. She was his only sibling. They cared for each other, laughed with one another, cried next to, ate with, slept with, fought with, loved one another. When a bond so strong is taken away… shouldn't there be more of a reaction? Shouldn't her spirit be shattered and soul torn into an empty void? Yet, Latias no longer felt sorrow. And that, to her, was scarier than Giratina's sins.
How could one move on from that? Shouldn't something like that scar someone for the rest of their lives, and leave them hollowed for the rest of eternity? Latias wept, not for her brother, but for herself. As selfish as that sounded, she was scared that she was becoming more like the loners of the council; cold, indifferent.
Unloved.
Latias slowed to a stop over the entry platform of the Hall of Origin. Her vision blurred slightly from the tears, and her breathing became ragged. Then;
"Quit crying, will you?"
Anger surged up within Latias, burning away the sorrow for a second. Kyurem, she thought with disgust. This is what I'm afraid of; ending up like him.
Latias whirled around to face the Ice legend, but before she could snap at him, Kyurem huffed.
"Get angry all you want," he said. "Just don't cry. I don't know what to do with you when you're sad."
Latias froze, half burned tears hanging from the corners of her eyes, mouth contorted into a scowl. What is he talking about? she thought. Why isn't he just snipping at me? This seems… halfhearted. Given the previous night's antics (which, for the record, Latias did not regret), Latias expected Kyurem to be more pessimistic than this. He almost sounded concerned, but concern about anything besides pride was a concept so foreign of Kyurem that Latias simply pushed it aside. Then again, if he wasn't concerned… then what was he?
Maybe it had something to do with the events from earlier that day. Latias had asked him what he cared about, and she got an odd, jumbled thought in response. Kyurem had cut off their mental connection before she could fully read it, but the waves of emotion that washed over her in the wake of said thought was enough to convince her of one thing;
He cared very deeply about something. And he would sacrifice himself for it. Now she just had to find out what, or even who it was.
Kyurem huffed again. "Glad to see you can actually shut up for a few seconds," he said grumpily, stalking past her towards the entry doors.
Well, it's probably not me.
Latias scoffed indignantly and she dashed forward to catch up to her 'protector'.
"Glad to see you noticed," she snapped. "Buzz off."
Kyurem snorted as they approached the set of double golden doors marking the Hall's entrance. "Just try not to be too annoying during the meeting," he said.
Latias laughed aloud at this comment. "When have I ever been annoying to you?"
Kyurem paused, glancing back at the small eon dragon. "Last night," he said. "I seem to recall a certain Legend singing a national anthem."
"I was patriotically inspired. Sue me."
Kyurem grumbled to himself as he pushed the right door open, stomping inside with a red dragon behind him, smiling innocently. "Let's just get this over with," he grumbled.
Latias couldn't resist twirling around the larger dragon and giggling, solely for the purpose of annoying him. "No legend meeting is ever harmless," she said lightly.
Kyurem stopped dead in his tracks so Latias bumped right into his chest. The brief contact sent a wave of warmth through her; which was odd, considering how Kyurem's innards were supposedly sub-zero in temperature. Kyurem glared down coldly at her, and Latias felt herself unable to move; the conflicting temperatures of his frigid gaze and warm skin left her paralyzed.
"I know that very well," he said in a tone that was just on the line between resigned and angry. His yellow gaze pinned her to the smooth tile floor with frozen restraints, better than any Psychic bonds she could conjure. "After all, I got put with you in the last meeting."
Latias blinked, not sure whether to take that as an insult or to take it… completely differently. She heard no spite in his voice, nor annoyance. Instead, there was something else…
Kyurem huffed and pushed past her towards the meeting room of the Hall. "Come on," he said, not looking back at her. Latias simply gazed after him.
There was a dangerous undertone to his voice; almost like he was warning her not to try to read into his voice or expression. Of course, curiosity was one of Latias' defining qualities. Now confused beyond all belief, the red dragon floated after the Unovan legendary.
She quickened her pace until she was right next to him, but he still refused to meet her gaze. Latias put her paw on his still-moving shoulder as they reached the doors to the meeting room.
"You've got a funny way of doing things, you know that?" she asked.
Kyurem glanced down at her. "And you don't?" he asked. Latias stared up at him, meeting his gaze evenly. In doing so, something compelled her to smile wanly.
"I'm peculiar like that," she said, the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. A flicker of something passed over the Ice-type's face; then it was gone. Without knowing it, Latias tightened her grip on his shoulder as they continued to stare at each other.
Suddenly, the double doors to the meeting room swung open. Arceus stood in the doorway, and behind him sat the amassed council of legends, all heads turned in their direction.
Latias' paw disappeared from Kyurem's shoulder almost as fast as she could fly. As Kyurem raised an eyebrow bemusedly, the Alpha glanced down at them, no emotion betrayed through expression.
"So glad you two can join us," he said evenly. "We were just about to address your… arrangement."
Both legendaries glanced at each other. Latias didn't have to read Kyurem's mind to know what he was thinking;
Huh boy.
/-\-/-\
Silence reigned supreme.
Deep within the heart of Turnback Cave, in Giratina's private residence, no sound was made. Latios swung his translucent head from side to side. Okay, I made it past the three pillars, he thought. Where's the Devil?
As he scanned the cave, he noticed that Giratina's residence was somewhat different from the rest of Turnback. It had the thin layer of fog and deathly chill that was standard in the rest of the nightmarish labyrinth. However, the stone walls were smoother, and there were a few objects laying scattered around the vast cavern. Mirrors, large fifty-foot mirrors, lay flat on the ground and propped against the walls.
Huh, Latios thought with slight amusement. I never took Giratina for vain. Wonder why she has all these mirrors…
"Ugh."
Latios flinched at hearing a voice come from below him. Looking down, he stumbled back at seeing Giratina laying on the ground in her Altered Forme.
Her grey chest heaved as she lay on her side, and Latios noticed with a cringe the multiple wounds that bled from all parts of her body. Her crimson eyes were closed, and her face was contorted in pain, her mask unable to hide her expression for once. Several of plates of her gold armor were cracked and dented, and her ebony wings were tattered beyond belief. Something did this to Giratina, and Latios was fairly sure he wouldn't have wanted to meet it in Turnback, alone.
Latios felt a spark shoot off in his chest. He had the strangest desire to fawn over the death legendary in a manner much like that in which he treated Latias. An urge of protectiveness took hold of him fiercely. It grabbed hold of his lungs and refused to let go.
He found his spectral form dashing forward. "Giratina!" he said as he unfroze. "What-?"
"Rrrrrgggg…."
The passed eon dragon stopped dead three feet from Giratina's massive form as the Renegade snarled. Twin orbs of wine glared at him, overflowing with pain and anger. Her chest heaved roughly, and Latios could hear the sound of her full, heavy breathing.
"Don't-," sputtered the fallen Pokémon, rage thickly coating her words. "Take-one-more-step." For his own sake, Latios decided not to point out that he didn't actually take steps; he floated. But, although she wouldn't have been able to do anything about it immediately, Latios knew she would eventually heal. Then, he knew, he would be completely screwed.
Giratina exhaled roughly, the sound bordering between annoyed snort and resigned sigh. "What…?" A coughing fit overcame her, cutting her off. Latios risked inching forward slower than a Macargo.
"What happened to you?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. For some reason, fear pumped madly through Latios' veins. He immediately assumed it was the cave's ambiance, but he still couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling that came with it. Maybe he was just cold. Yes, that had to be it.
Giratina glared at him, as if wondering why he'd bothered to speak at all. "What-cough-what do you care?" she snapped faintly. Latios blinked, just now asking himself that very same question. Uh…, he thought. How do I answer this without getting mauled?
"I-uh…," Latios wrung his clawed hands together. Had he any living pores, they would have been producing insane quantities of sweat. Nevertheless, Latios unconsciously wiped his brow.
"You-you're supposed to be the indisputable ruler of Turnback," he said. Giratina's eyes flashed, and she exhaled in a violent huff. "I'm not challenging you!" he amended quickly. "It's just that- well, if anything can injure you this bad…" Giratina's glare intensified, and Latios realized he was stepping on possibly the only thing that mattered to the spectral basilisk; her pride.
"I… I guess I was just wondering if you were okay."
He may as well have slapped Giratina in the face. Every part of her massive, wounded, bleeding body immediately froze. A flicker of something passed over the Renegade's face- was that fear?- before disappearing.
All thoughts left the deceased eon's head as Giratina's body shifted. The basilisk slowly rose, her massive form looming over the specter. Her twin orbs of crimson wine tore into his head, and with her tattered wings and bloody scars, she looked more like a ruler of Hell than ever before.
"What?!"
Her voice exploded like lava from a volcano, blowing over the shorter legend. Latios shrunk back, the basilisk's breath washing over him and blowing his down back. It was strangely comforting, like a gust of life lost in a palace of death. It kinda smells like that one purple flower in Alto Mare… nightshade. Giratina thrust her head forward so they were face-to-face, and Latios had to tell himself to stop breathing in the flowery scent right now, dang-it as the Renegade snarled down at him.
"Just wondering if I was okay, is that right?!" she yelled, throwing his own words brutally back at him. "Right?" Latios could do nothing but nod fearfully.
"NO!" she practically screamed. "Not right! Left!" Latios blinked, now completely lost.
"I don't need your worrying!" she shouted. "I have enough to deal with around here without it! I don't care if Arceus, his royal Llama-ness, assigned me to you! You can get by just fine on your own."
Latios floated backwards, now scared witless. He suddenly found himself wondering if there was such a thing as dying twice in the same week.
Giratina let out a massive breath, her outburst obviously tiring her out. As she sat back on her haunches, Latios noticed a semi-formed scab on her neck, just under the middle armor plate. The movement from sitting caused the dented plate to tear open a new wound.
Obviously not expecting it, Giratina clutched her neck with a tattered wing, crying out in pain. The sharp movement caused another visible scab, this one on her shoulder, to tear open as well. With another cry, Giratina fell onto her side, the new wounds profusely bleeding once again. As if this wasn't enough, the force of her impact against the ground caused yet another wound, this one on one of her powerful grey legs, to tear open. Giratina flinched silently this time, not making a sound, and she went completely still.
Everything was silent. Nothing moved except for Latios' hovering and the slow trickles of blood slipping out from the Renegade. Latios blinked, unsure if he should have started to laugh or if he should have floated away, whimpering. He was afraid that any movement on his part would trigger another rampage.
The way she had snapped at him… it was almost like she thought he was taunting her, or trying to trick her. All he had asked was if she was okay. Was that so out of place? After all his years of fussing over his sister, it had become second-nature for him to wonder about other's well-being. So why did Giratina, lying on the ground bloodied and bruised beyond all spectral belief, push away his help so quickly?
Latios floated forward in a wide circle, keeping his misty eyes firmly on Giratina's. Her crimson orbs had lost their rage, though. They were still dangerous, by every definition of the word. Any other creature meeting those eyes in the darkness of Turnback would have run away, screaming in absolute terror, fearing for their soul. But Latios found himself able to see past that. The danger in the Renegade's eyes was not that of a cunning predator; nor was it the glare of a feared demon.
It was instead the danger- or perhaps more accurately, the fear- that belonged to a cornered animal.
Giratina looked scared for her life. Of course, had he told anyone this, they would have called him crazy. She wasn't scared, she was pissed. Yet, as he looked into her harsh wine filled irises, he could see the immeasurable amounts of fear in them. The golden mask adorning her head no longer hid the truth; at least not from him. Latios steeled his nerves, and he neared the wounded legend.
The Ghost-type growled, shifting her head away slightly. "Get away, Latios," she growled, and the eon dragon raised an eyebrow at hearing a slight quiver, however small, in her voice.
"Why?" he asked.
Giratina blinked and her eyes flickered, as if unsure whether to ignite in a furious inferno or go cold. They decided on igniting.
"Why what, Latios?" she snapped, wincing from the pain in one shoulder. Latios floated closer anyways, unperturbed by her blustery front.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" he asked gently, as if trying to keep her relaxed. "I'm trying to help you." A cold gust of wind swept through the cavern.
"I don't need your help," she grumbled, shifting her weight. Latios laughed softly, bending his head down to stare at Giratina at eye-level, no more than three feet away.
"What are you trying to defend here?" he asked lightly. "Pride? Reputation? Why push this away?"
Giratina glared at him deeply. "You don't have the right to lecture me about not needing help," she growled. "You can never comprehend my reasoning."
Latios smirked wanly. "Everyone needs help at one point or another. Why not you?"
Giratina chose this moment to use one of her still-healing wings to fiercely grab Latios and drag him towards her. Anger washed over Latios in that moment, stronger than any he had ever felt or seen before. He felt as if someone had injected raw pain into his veins, feeling the burning flames that burst from Giratina's eyes, inches away from his.
"You don't know me, Latios," she growled softly, her warm breath washing over his spectral face. Latios held his breath, trying not to breathe the soft yet poisonous scent of nightshade.
"You can never understand me," Giratina continued softly, anger beginning to fade. Her words were crafted from bitterness so deep, Latios could almost taste it. "Never." He felt her grip on him loosen slightly. What happened to this Pokémon? he wondered somberly, taking in Giratina's pain and bluster. Does anyone truly know who Giratina is?
Latios felt his face fall slightly, although he didn't know why. "I can try to understand, can't I?"
Giratina dropped the eon ghost and leaned back against the stone wall behind her tiredly. She still glared at him with combinations of deadly predator and cornered animal.
"Even if I wanted you to, which I don't," she growled weakly. "You still couldn't."
Latios folded his arms over his grey chest. All his life, he had been with Latias, someone he could depend on, relate to. He knew that splitting a burden was almost like taking it away completely. Except, Giratina never had anyone to depend on down in Turnback. No one to even talk to, besides some wandering spirits. Latios made an oath to himself in that moment that he would be the first Pokémon in the world to finally understand Giratina. After all of the brutality she'd been subject to, he figured somebody owed that much to her. Even deceased gods.
I need to be careful how I go about it, though, Latios thought. A few wrong sentences and I'll be sent to… whatever comes after Turnback. Latios shuddered at the thought.
"Fine," he said finally. "But we're not done with this talk." Giratina glared at him tiredly, as if he were a snack she was too lazy to go eat.
"Are you trying to give me orders, See-Through?"
Oh yes, excellent job, Latios. Very careful.
"No," he said. "Just making a point. But don't call me See-Through. It's bad enough being called dead."
Giratina chuckled emptily as she leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. "Get used to it," she said lightly, as if telling a joke. "There worse things to be called." Latios considered probing deeper, but he quickly decided against it. I can't exactly crack this nutshell in one hit. I'll need to take this one psychological scar at a time. I can start later.
"Can we start over?" he asked. Giratina opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow, but didn't object. Latios sighed and extended his spectral paw.
"Hello, I'm Latios, and I'm dead," he said. "Please don't take my head off."
There was silence as Giratina glanced down at Latios' face, his paw, then back up to his face again. Her eyebrow almost came off her face. Latios glanced around awkwardly, his paw still in the air.
Then Giratina laughed. It was a pure, clean sound, and hearing it made Latios flinch. In the three-and-a-half millennia he'd been alive, he'd never heard such a sound come from the Renegade. The closest he'd ever seen was a snort of amusement at a legend meeting.
"I didn't think we were going back that far," she said lightly. She extended a tattered wing, wincing slightly as it extended. Latios grabbed it in his paw and tightened his grip in the oddest paw/wing shake ever known. He noticed a subtle warmth coming from the contact, but he ignored it as Giratina continued.
"Giratina," she said. "Considering how much of a nuisance you've been, I can't say it's a pleasure."
Latios smirked as they each retracted their respective appendages. At least I got her to do something she doesn't normally do, he thought. I'm making progress. "Of course," he said aloud.
"Oh, and Latios?"
"Yes?"
"Tell any spirit here I laughed aloud, and you'll be spending the next eternity milling about Turnback without a head." The Renegades' eyes gleamed maliciously as she raised her bloodied wings threateningly. Latios laughed nervously.
Oh, yeah, he thought. I'm definitely making progress.
/-\-/-\
Raticate stood impatiently by the second pillar of Turnback. Where is she? he thought. Normally not this late…
Just then, mist rose from the floor and condensed into a form her knew all too well; the elegant body of a Volcarona. Raticate ignored the slight hitch in his breath as his companion appeared.
"Where have you been?" he asked her. "We were supposed to have begun scouting for new specters ten minutes ago."
Volcarona brushed her partner lightly, as if shooing away an insect. "I got caught up watching some interesting events unfolding."
Raticate snorted. "Like what?" he asked with a slight tinge of humor in his voice. "Did you see another tree?" Volcarona slapped him lightly upside the head as he chuckled. She had a knack for knowing when he was trying to get on her nerves.
"That was one time, and it's beside the point," she said. "Darkrai attacked Giratina just now."
Raticate straightened, all humor lost. "Who won?" he asked, intrigued. Specter battles were commonplace in Turnback, but never did the Queen herself get challenged.
Volcarona stopped flapping her wings for a second; her version of a shrug. "Both survived. Darkrai retreated back to his sanctuary, and Giratina was left seriously wounded in her chamber."
Raticate hesitated a moment, thinking. "Why did he attack?"
Volcarona sighed, and she settled down on the rocky floor next to Raticate. "It may have had something to do with Latios," she said.
"I don't take your meaning."
Volcarona glanced at him with faint blue eyes. "Latios said that Giratina was assigned by Arceus to care for him in Turnback."
Raticate nodded. "I remember. And?"
"And nobody took care of Darkrai when he got here. I think that extra bit of 'injustice', as he would put it, pushed him over the edge."
Raticate hummed thoughtfully, sitting down as well. "Anything else?"
Volcarona smirked and Raticate couldn't help but think; Uh-oh.
"Yes, actually," she said. "When Latios arrived eventually and saw her wounded, he began to pelt her with questions about her well-being."
Raticate laughed. "And I assume the former protector of Alto Mare is now ectoplasmic dust?"
Volcarona turned to face his front. "No," she said, slight bewilderment slipping into her voice. "Instead of killing him or punishing him, Giratina actually listened, and then…" Volcarona took a breath.
"… then she laughed."
Raticate blinked. "We are talking about Giratina, right?" he asked. "Not a Zoroark disguised as Giratina?"
Volcarona shook her head, chuckling slightly. "I didn't believe it either," she said. "A few words of kindness from Latios was enough to set her off balance." There was silence for a moment as Raticate took in the information he'd been given.
"… Kind of reminds me of when I found you injured here, some time back," he said eventually.
Volcarona pushed him on the shoulder lightly, barely moving him. "Oh, be quiet, you rat," she said. "I wasn't that pessimistic."
"Refresh my memory. Who called me 'a beige colored lump of decaying fur that can walk and ask pointless questions'?"
Volcarona giggled and pushed on her partner's shoulder again, before eventually resting her head on it. "Just let me delude myself, would you?"
Raticate paused for a second before he tilted his head to rest on Volcarona's. "What would be the fun in that?"
Volcarona chuckled, then went silent. Raticate was perfectly content to simply lay there for a while, though. Eventually, Volcarona spoke up again.
"We can't tell him about Giratina," she said somberly. "It's too dangerous. We need to separate ourselves from Darkrai."
Raticate glanced down at her. "Isn't that dangerous anyway?"
Volcarona sighed. "I suppose, but if we keep going with this, full-out war is going to break loose," she said. "I would rather stay here than die a second time."
Raticate nodded. "Good," he said. "Because I would prefer to stay as well."
Volcarona sighed again, and Raticate could feel her chest heave gently as the breath left her. "Good night," she said softly.
Raticate looked down at her. "What do you mean, 'good night'?" he asked. "We need to do our morning rounds."
Volcarona huffed softly. "We're free from Darkrai, remember?" she said. "We can just stay here forever if we wanted to."
Raticate sighed. "I suppose."
Looking down at his partner, Raticate felt something uneasy settle in the pit of his non-existent stomach. This will go wrong, he thought. He'll find out, then come and hunt us down. Raticate blinked as he felt one of Volcarona's translucent wings curl around his back. But… I think right now it's paying off.
Raticate glanced down again. "Good night, then," he said softly. He swore he heard Volcarona hum smugly.
He rolled his eyes, then closed them as well.
E/N- Awww…
Remember these two? They have yet to serve their purpose in the story, so this was really just a quick reminder of them.
Also, is it just me, or are the Lati siblings acting a lot like detectives; Latias trying to find out what Kyurem cares about, and Latios trying to get Giratina to open up to him? I can tell this is going to get interesting.
Once again, I profusely apologize for my tardiness, but I hope this makes up for it.
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EyeofAmethyst07