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V

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-A-

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Chapter VII: The Cost of the Third Trial

The Growlithe pup chased a moth about its frantic flight, white wings fluttering, creating a mesmerizing afterimage. Red eye dots upon those wings glared and blinked at the pup, their illusion cast by the insect's vivid flight. Gold antenna furled back in effort to streamline the moth, giving it the appearance of some other worldly device.

"Child, leave that poor creature alone." The Grandsire Arcanine of the pup grumbled from his lounge in the shade. The pup ceased his gaming pursuit, but eagerly followed the white moth as it alighted upon a stone, gently fanning its red eyed wings and adjusting its golden feathered antennae in the fading sunlight.

"It's looking at me, Grandfather." The pup spoke in wonderment. The elderly Arcanine groaned as he rose to his feet.

"It is a Watcher of the hunt. It is a symbol of the balance that the Arcanines cherish. Eons ago, it was a moth very much like this one who first guided our ancestors to the Rose Hills, and it was that same moth who taught us the Law of the Hunt." The Arcanine came to stand next to his Grandson, who failed to repress a yawn.

"Have you no respect for the Law of the Hunt, child?" The Grandfather asked wearily. The pup shook his head.

"Everyday, I hear of the Law of the Hunt. I know what it is, and understand why we, and we alone follow it." The pup groaned. The Grandfather chuckled.

"Then tell the moth what you have learned." The Grandfather smiled. The pup looked up at him, curious. It was a just a moth. What did it care for the Law of the Hunt?

"Well?" the Grandfather asked patiently. The pup could only stare. Was his Grandsire serious?

"The moth won't wait forever for your answer, child." The Grandfather said with a chipped yellow grin. The pup swallowed, and decided it was best to entertain his senile Grandfather.

"I have learned that the Law of the Hunt strives for balance. It was given to all hunters at the beginning of time, but only the Arcanine remember it. The Law teaches us not to take more than we need from the prey, for we depend upon the prey to live. If we take too much from the prey, then not only will the prey fail, but so too will the predators. From the herds, take no more than one female for every three males. Eat the weak, but spare the children, for without their children; the herd will wane. Hunt not the herd who suffers for lack, but guide them unto plenty; for without the herd, the predators will fall. Guard the herds from the wicked, whom you will know by their hunt for excess, who needlessly slaughter the prey and damn their own children to hunger." The pup recited the Law of the Hunt to the moth, whose wings grew still throughout the telling. The pup sighed.

"So much for the Law of the Hunt. The Grave Stretch's packs are stronger than we are, and they have only become so strong by violating the Law. Stupid moths and their stupid Laws…" The pup grumbled. The moth once more took to the air, but rather than flee, the moth instead landed upon the startled pup's nose.

"It seems that the Watcher refutes your assessment." The Grandfather chuckled. The pup could only stare in shock at the fearless insect on his nose.

"Why does he not flee? I am a hunter." The pup sounded wounded. The ancient Arcanine at his side roared with laughter, and the moth finally left the pup's nose, flying off towards the Great Expanse.

"Because the moth knows that you will uphold the Law. It has no need to fear an Arcanine or their pups. We are the guardians, not the destroyers. It is our legacy, and you and your generation will teach the Law to the your children and your children's children, so that our Law is never forgotten." The Arcanine spoke softly, and for a moment, the pup's eyes grew distant, as though with wisdom. But then, as bleary eyes closed and watered, a yawning pup betrayed his Grandfather's hope.

"Tell me a story, Grandpa. A story about hunters." The pup eagerly looked up at his father's father, and watched as the old dog withered with a sigh.

"The impetuousness of youth... Very well. I will tell you a story. A story about hunters." The Arcanine smiled down at the suspicious pup, who could smell a moral of the Law roasting in his Grandfather's telling.

"It has something to do with our Law, doesn't it?" The pup groaned, and the Grandfather cackled.

"Of course it does. You are losing sight of the Law, because you do not believe that the Law punishes those who violate it. But this is an ancient tale, a tale of the most deadly and feared of all hunters. A Pack, whose weakest members had strength well beyond the Alpha of any Pack today. A solitary hunter who could eat the entirety of the Absols' Pack as if they were mere herds of Tepigs." The Grandfather looked at the pup, and saw the child's eyes widen with excitement.

"The most terrible of hunters? How could one predator make prey of a Pack? Tell me Grandfather!" The pup begged. The Grandfather settled down, and took his time, enjoying the beauty of the setting sun. The pup beside him was growing anxious, but patience was a lesson enforced amongst the Arcanine. With a weary sigh, did the elder finally summon up the tale.

"Many thousands of years ago, there existed a Pack of hunters. Though they often hunted alone, at times they would pour across the land in the hundreds, eating everything the sky, land, and water had to offer. The Blue Serpents, born from the sea. So great were these hunters that they feared nothing. Not the Wailords in the ocean, nor the Salamencia of the sky, or even the Snorlaxes from the plains. No depth of the ocean could be spared the gnashing of their maws, and so mighty were their coils that the Serpents could slither into the farthest reaches of the heavens. The land between the wind and the water was their richest bounty, and all who lived within these realms, lived to feed the Blue Serpents." The old Arcanine groaned, and rolled onto his side.

"They could hunt in the ocean, sky, and land? These Blue Serpents?" The pup asked in awe. The Grandfather's gaze grew distant.

"Yes. All was their domain. All the elements answered to their dominance. The Blue Serpents were massive, almost as long as the Onix, and they were armored in scale too thick to rend with claw, horn, tusk, or tooth. Their jaws were both wide and tall. So large were their mouths that they could swallow a Donphan whole-"

"You're making this up. No predator is that strong-"

"You asked me for a story, pup. Do not interrupt your elders when they speak." The Arcanine growled to his Grandson, who crouched low with an apology.

"Now… Where was I?" The geriatric Arcanine seemed lost.

"-With a mouth that could swallow a Donphan whole?"

"Ah yes, the mouth. It was just one of the Blue Serpent's many weapons. A tail so strong that it could split the mountains, a body so heavy and hard that they could crush a forest like a field of grass. A crest so sharp that its cut could bleed even the wind, and a rage so fierce that it could scar the very land." The Arcanine murmured, and the pup grew enraptured. Giving his elder time to collect his thoughts, the pup strained his patience.

"So mighty were the Blue Serpents that nothing had the strength to resist them. The Blue Serpents ate the Mamoswine in the coldest mountains, and learned from the meat how to make frigid their fangs. Upon eating the Dragonairs in the deepest jungles, the Serpents learned the Dragon's mystic dance from the hunt. When eating the Rhyperiors of the most barren deserts, the Serpents learned how to shake the earth with their roar alone. In time, the ever hunting Serpents grew varied in their majesty, and weapons most distinct were added to their arsenal. The Houndoom's flames, the Luxray's lightning, and the Gigalith's stones; all that they ate became a part of them. And in their all consuming hunt, the mighty only became the mightiest." The Arcanine rested his drying mouth. But the pup still had doubts to be voiced.

"But if these Serpents were so powerful, why have I never heard of them before? Why don't they still hunt today?" The pup asked skeptically. The Grandfather wheezed a sigh.

"They were too successful. Too prominent. Too powerful. Too greedy. The Serpents were mighty, this is true, but the Law of the Hunt is mightier still." The elderly Arcanine replied.

"The seas were purged, the lands laid barren, and even the skies grew empty; all fell to the great wyrms' hunger. Soon the world had nothing left to offer the mightiest of the hunters. Nothing, except the penalty of a broken Law. Hunger. And so the Serpents turned on one another, the thousands feeding on each other across their domains. So hungry and many were they, that it is said; in their final hunt the very oceans turned red, and the sky itself rained their blood upon the land. They ate, and they ate, and they ate, all eating one another; until only one Serpent stood alone amongst the ruin of its species. And when that final Serpent realized that it was the last of its kind, did the strongest predator beg for absolvement. And answering this forlorn Serpent's prayer, was a white moth. A white moth who landed upon that Serpent's jaw, and whispered to the Serpent the terms of its penance." The Arcanine paused, and looked to his Grandson.

"Where did the Serpents err, child?" The Grandfather asked. The pup swallowed, and quietly answered.

"They forgot the Prime Tenant from the Law of the Hunt. Do not take needlessly." The Grandfather smiled fondly.

"What do you imagine became of that final Serpent, pup?"

"He did not die alone?" The pup chanced a guess. The Arcanine snorted.

"Not quite. For the crime of wasting the world, the world would waste the Serpents. In its penance, the final Serpent went into the sea, and tore every scarred scale from its body. In losing its scales, the Serpent would perish, but some form of its species would persist. For from the shorn scales were born a fish, weak and feeble, small and insignificant. This fish would be countless in their numbers, for it was their only means to survive. For this new creature, this child of the Serpents, would not serve as its ancestors had; as the mightiest of the predators... but rather as the meekest of the prey. So were the first Magikarp born, from the death of the final Serpent. The Serpents, who would never rise again, unless one of their descendants paid heed to the Law of the Hunt. Damning the Magikarps to fulfill the most noble of hunts; To guide, and to spare, for the future of those who follow. Magikarps, who cannot even hunt the lowest of life. And so did the Law of the Hunt punish the Serpents' greed, as the Law will surely punish all who defy it." The Grandfather finished the story, and settled his great maned head upon his crossed forepaws. Fixing an eye on the pup who sat near him in awe, the Grandfather awaited the questions.

"So the Serpents really did exist?" The pup asked in a whisper.

"Yes."

"And the Law made them into the Magikarps?"

"Did you not hear the end?"

"I did, but- How?" The pup asked, worried. The Grandfather chuckled.

"Because the Law is balance, and it always corrects those who test it."

The pup shook his head. That was not an answer to the question, but the pup knew better than to press the old dog for a further explanation.

"So they were feared, these Serpents?"

"They were venerated as harbingers of destruction. Their very name was a call to flee and hide. A call that smothered all hope, and tamed all with dread." The Grandfather answered.

"What manner of call? What was the name of these Serpents?" The pup asked in a fearful whisper. The Arcanine reluctantly murmured something into his mane.

"Speak up, Grandfather. I cannot hear you." The pup edged closer. The elder sighed, before darkly whispering.

"The ancient call. The siren of death. The Serpent's name… was Gyarados."

"GYARADOS!" An Absol screamed, and the entirety of the pack fell back in fear and awe. Gyarados. A name that had only been whispered in tall tales for eons now returned to its ancient call. Gyarados. The Endless Hunger. The Invincible Predator. The Ultimate Hunter.

The Alpha stood closest to this Revived Nightmare. This Eldritch Titan. The azure light had only just faded, and the beast was already releasing its signature roar. Sapphire blue, thick, chitinous plates of armor encased the entirety of this creature. Four tri-forked fins tipped in razored spines, ran linear down the beast's back. A fluked tail, possessing a girth greater than an elder tree's trunk, tapered down into a fleshy serrated web; slamming down upon the ground with enough force to shake the earth in a thunderous crack. Yet as monstrous as the body was, the head held the cruelest apparatus. Long pliant barbels flexed ever so slightly in the still wind; these sensors portraying visions of both the thermal-life and the electrical patterns of foreign nervous systems directly into the ancient tyrant's brain. A massive mouth, bordering ridicule in its anatomically exaggerated expanse, split open; and primordial evolution revealed a sickening design. Though the fangs were small and sparse; save for the wicked primary canines, a bony plate crowned the roof of the Serpent's mouth, and a muscular barbed tongue stood as a foreboding testament to the crushing power of that maw. A dark blue, three-pointed crest, stood like a jeweled obelisk upon its brow, and such a monument left the air moaning with every motion of the Serpent's head. Below this impressive crest, were the small red eyes, slit pupiled, and perpetually furrowed in unrestrained rage.

Yet for every weapon displayed, for every device of extrapolated survival exhibited stark naked to the Serpent's terrified witnesses, every crucial element of its fierce and impossible demeanor failed to justify the most obvious feature of this primeval killer. The sheer scale of the beast was beyond all reckoning. The towering colossus inhabited a span exceeding even the scope of its oceanic origins. Gyarados. The Eater of Alphas. The Savage Destroyer.

The Alpha Absol shrank away from the monster's bulk, and found himself cowering when it moved. The Serpent was no lumbering beast. Sinister grace gave its motions a surreal effect, as the undulating coils swept in and out in a rapid, menacing slither. Yet the head stayed unnervingly detached from the movements of its lower body, seemingly riding steady atop a living typhoon.

The Pack broke when the Serpent advanced. Many of the Pack members scattered, hundreds charged hysterically into the night, crying out in shrieks of fear and madness. The legends lived. A myth was reborn. Those who stayed in that craggy field were too paralyzed to flee, unable to move their numb bodies or tear their wide eyes away from this long-lost analogue, for such was the horror and magnificence of the creature before them.

The Serpent halted its menacing advance before one lonely figure in the dirt. One Absol too wounded to flee. One dissident, who moments before, had been called to death by her own father.

Glassy eyes looked up at the blue Serpent above her. Eyes, already distant with pain. Eyes, already seeing past the veil of life. Laying her head down in submission, the Absol waited to die. Regardless of the deathly shadow looming over her, the Absol's life was already forfeit. Blood welled from gaping wounds with every feeble beat of her heart. And with every drop spent, every red tear shed, the fragile veil shifted further back. A mind of chilling apathy, a broken spirit awaiting its end, a wasting body failing to sustain. Thunder sounded beyond, and the first rains of the flood began to fall, diffusing and spreading out her creeping puddle of blood.

"Karst…" The Serpent spoke her name in a mournful breath, its weakness audible in spite of the rumbling bellow born from its throat to utter speech. Karst feebly looked up at the mighty Serpent, and saw Solomon's tears falling from its eyes.

The Alpha skirted around the grieving beast, and jarred his shaken Pride with a horn.

"Move to engage. Fall back when it lunges. Try to lower its head." The Alpha whispered to his Pride, who in terror, could barely remembered his authority.

"Fight the beast with me, or I will kill you when you flee." The Alpha reclaimed his Pride from the clutching dread, using his collected calm to fortify the threat.

The Alpha had devised a plan.

"Shake the beast, stand by me, and await my command." The Alpha hissed. The Pride nodded numbly, and made their grave advance towards the Serpent.

"So even the Great Wyrm Gyarados weeps. Tears shed in futile passion. Oh, how the mighty are rendered meek..." The Alpha taunted the crying snake, but for all the cruelty in his words, little did the Serpent respond.

"Have you no oaths of vengeance? No spine for justice? Are all your great tools dulled, beast?" The Gyarados remained silent. The Alpha roared.

"ANSWER ME!" The Pack was stirring. The monster was as still as a stone. The Pack's fear was retreating on sight of those tears, and their bloodlust returned in the roar of their Alpha's words. Rallied, the Pack began to approach, awful smiles worn to mock the giant's tears.

"What would you have me say?" The Serpent's calm voice halted all breath. Looking up from the dying Absol, the Gyarados's weary eyes met the Alpha's.

"That I am now whole? That it was not my choice? That I have lost my only comfort? That a sacrifice has been made, but it was not mine to make?"

"What manner of rot is this?! Speak to be understood, snake!" The Alpha spat, and his Pride once more drew wind.

"She was your child. She was my friend. How? How could you harm your own daughter?"

So broken and sorrowful was the Serpent's voice, and so profound were these words, that the whole Pack was held suspended in their collective disbelief. The gathered shadows of the moor were cast in a sudden cadence of lightning, and the Serpent's form withered. The Alpha found his voice first, and offered it to the Serpent in a growl.

"Go. Now. Before I answer you in oath." The Serpent turned back to the fallen Lead Router, his voice trembling. Weakling. A mountain crumbled before the now eager Pack, as the Alpha lead his chorus of cruel laughs.

"And what manner of oath could one so feeble enforce? Gyarados or not, it is the heart of a Magikarp that drives failed warnings from your tongue." The Alpha cackled. A rumble long, low, and deadly sounded from the Serpent's throat. Thunder, born from the heavy sky, echoed that growl's primal note.

"An oath of war." The Serpent's voice changed dramatically, deep and decisive. Cold and ragged. The mourning visage burned away in the heat of rage. The true nature of the Gyarados was slowly revealed, as the red eyes dilated, and a snarl was rendered deafening.

"To slay a Gyarados… Oh, what a saga…" The Alpha murmured.

Solomon felt the sensation growing. He had known anger. He knew what fury was. But this was different. This rage was a being, and his body was its shape. The Pack was gathering behind their Alpha's Pride. Hundreds of Absols stood opposed to this new Solomon. And yet he knew not fear. Meat. Meat surrounded him. Nothing but meat.

The Pack closed in on the the unshaken beast, horns lowered and smiles offered in wicked mocking. As a ring of Absols encircled the beast, the entire moor grew still with the waiting.

To whom would merit the first blow?

The Serpent was the first to strike. The Absols parted before his falling maw, and when the Gyarados's head drove into the vacant ground, the earth trembled beneath their feet. Upon witnessing the feral power and speed of the Serpent, many Absols regretted their decision to engage. But that regret was short lived, as the Serpent's head drew upon its body, and a wall of armored plates razed the Absols' line. The Alpha and his Pride skirted about the Gyarados's blind attack, even as dozens of Absols were thrown back by the whipping bulk.

"Present a challenge. Lower the Serpent's head, and hold its attention steady!" The Alpha barked to his Pride. The Pride dispersed, while the Alpha stood watch. He needed to learn this beast. The Alpha needed to discern the truth. He had only a legend's account on how to slay a Gyarados.

The Absols' front line broke, yet the Gyarados did not give pursuit. Instead the ancient beast fell back, peculiarly staying close to the dissident's corpse. For whatever reason, the Gyarados was hesitant to press its advantage on the faltering Pack, choosing to retreat and defend rather than assault.

The Absols regrouped, and reformed their front line. Advancing again towards the crouching monster, the Pack stood ready for the Gyarados's preemptive strike.

But it exchanged jaws for tail, and the stones split beneath its deceptive blow, scattering the Pack once more. Now the Absols learned caution in their foray. This beast was not weak, far from it. Though the Gyarados seemed oddly restrained. The Serpent struck not to kill, but to disperse and demoralize. To cripple if need be, but it seemed that the Serpent did not seek to end life.

"What manner of monster are you?" The Alpha hissed. His Pride moved in closer, goading the Serpent into battle, yet the Serpent seemed wary of their tactic, and his coils tightened around the Lead Router.

He was protecting a corpse.

The Routers adjusted their tactics accordingly. A single Router lunged forward as if to attack, and then fell back when the beast moved to intercept, allowing another Router to harry the Gyarados's blindside. But their mighty horns could only glance off of the blue scales, and the beast was beginning to learn them. An earth shaking roar sounded from the monster, and the Serpent ascended on its tail, straightening heavenwards to the fullest of its balanced height. Even the Alpha's breath was taken away. A blue and yellow pillar had suddenly risen from the level terrain, topped by a dragon's head. The Pride fell back in a mad rush, well aware that such a height dispensed incredible range, but the Gyarados was only posturing. The Serpent closed its scales once more around the Alpha's daughter, and drew itself into a tight coil. The Gyarados would not leave the fallen Lead Router undefended.

There was the advantage that the Alpha had been seeking.

"Does she still live, snake? Has she spoken any final words of sorrow for her father?" The Alpha left his rock, and made to join his Pride in the fray. A rumbling hiss was the Gyarados's only reply.

"Do you even know what I did to her? Do you know why she hates me?" The Alpha spoke in his silky voice, further enraging the beast before him. The Alpha marched forward alone, seemingly unconcerned with the furious Gyarados that stood but a strike away.

"I arranged a social visit for her with one of our allies. I placed her into a situation where he would have the advantage…" The Alpha was casually examining a paw, smirking more to himself than the Serpent. But the Alpha's words and mannerisms had their effect upon the beast. The Alpha could feel the monster's shocked silence.

"...You understand me, then?" The Alpha grinned at the horrified Gyarados. The Serpent was wrestling in the throes of disbelief.

"You- You- Your… own-?" Solomon staggered over the words.

"I blame her of course. I gave her ample opportunity to bear my heir, yet she avoided my wishes with an almost… tenacious disregard. I had her raped, just for my simple want of a cub." The Alpha stated wickedly. Solomon's breaths were jagged and sharp. His eyes clenched and his mouth flexed in fury. The Serpent's entire body trembled with a mounting hatred.

"-Does that surprise you?" The Alpha feigned shock, sarcasm rank in his smile.

Solomon raised himself higher once more with a deep intake of breath.

-And then released that inhaled wind in a river of flames.

The stream was directed at the Alpha, and age old skill bade him to evade. The intense heat born from the those flames still melted hair and blistered skin, regardless of Alpha's maneuver.

The Serpent followed the flames with a sudden lunge. The Alpha was forced into a hasty retreat. The expansive scale of these attacks was more than enough to compensate for their poor coordination. The Gyarados had forgotten its restraint, and the Serpent now gave the Alpha a true battle, where pure skill stood in contest to raw power.

Solomon was committed. The loving creature within the Serpent's core was lost to the fury born of instinct. Destruction was its only purpose. Dominance was its only desire. A spitting devil had risen where an angel once wept. This ancient monster was now channeling its true nature.

And though the Alpha was proving elusive, his aging body was tiring. The reckless beast opposed to him seemed inexhaustible. In this war, youth and sheer might would burn brighter than experience and finesse. The battle had already been decided. Only time now denied the Gyarados victory. Again and again, the Serpent wounded only the earth, yet no misguided blow offered the Alpha an opening. Every attack was subsequently followed by another. Where maw failed, tail rose to riposte. When distance separated the Alpha Absol from the Gyarados, flames walled any further retreats. Now the Alpha understood why the legends spoke of the Serpents in such reverence, for such a mighty adversary could fall a Pack in effortless abandon. Every desperate juke of the Alpha spent more of his waning strength, denying more of his conviction. The Alpha had need of a new a tactic. And the Alpha needed it soon.

Of course, the stage for such a tactic had already been set; it was simply awaiting the Alpha's exploitation.

"My daughter! Kill her!" The Alpha roared to his Pride, and his gamble told within the terror born of the Serpent's eyes. The tiny pupils became massive, and the beast staggered. Solomon had abandoned Karst in his pursuit of the Alpha, and now his greatest weakness was laid bare to the Pride.

"Karst!" Solomon wheeled about, racing to defend the dying Absol from her kin, while the Alpha moved to intercept the Serpent's blind redirection.

"STAY AWAY FROM HER!" Solomon scattered the Pride in his haste, coiling protectively around the fallen Lead Router. The Alpha charged up an inclining stone, and leapt with all speed from its summit. The Serpent had erred.

And one error could alter fate.

Solomon heard an airborne roar above him, and lifted his azure head from his coils; seeking the source of that triumphant bellow.

And Solomon beheld the Alpha descending, horn aimed at a Serpent's brow.

A chipped and jagged horn pierced the left eye of the Serpent, and drove deep into the socket.

Pain.

The Serpent did not know pain.

And yet, pain learned the Serpent with the Alpha's decisive blow.

Solomon was overwhelmed by the violence that rose from within; consuming conscious and reason, claiming both heart and mind.

Feral rage became an entity, and it laid waste to the poor soul that dared place itself in futile resistance before it.

Solomon was no more.

Yet the beast did not fall.

The Alpha had failed. His blow had not cored the brain. And now the unbridled power of the Gyarados was known in this land once more.

The Alpha had never seen such speed. None of his Pack had. The monster tore apart the ground in a bloodied dance, before a shrieking Serpent brought its wrath down upon all who stood before it. The blue beast was everywhere, screaming ruin in a concerto of endings.

Absols were swallowed whole, entire Prides pulped beneath a tail. Retreating quarters were engulfed in flames, and the earth split open to swallow any who stood static in shock.

"RETREAT!" The Alpha himself spoke the words that no Alpha of the Absols had uttered in centuries. There was no contesting this force. There wasn't a prayer for victory.

Survival was the only hope.

The Absols leapt over the newly rent faults, and dispersed into the cover of the woods, while the Serpent's flames licked at their shadows.

A roar of victory chased the fleeing Absol Pack, and the Gyarados turned his rage from the prey and onto the land, shaking, breaking, burning, and crushing; the Serpent forged absolute destruction.

It was only after exhaustion claimed the wheezing Gyarados, that Solomon could remember his own name.

He could not see out of his left eye, for the Alpha's blow had claimed its sight, but the other senses of the Gyarados detected a morsel of life, faint, though persistent, still remaining in the cracked and blazing moor.

Paying his own inhibitions no heed, Solomon hastened to the dying Lead Router.

"...Karst?" Solomon whispered when he came upon her still form.

The Absol was silent.

"Karst, talk to me… Please…"

Her neck jerked suddenly, and her glassy eyes tilted with the angle of her head.

Solomon's breath was caught within his throat.

"Hey, Sol… You look bigger?" Karst smiled at him, though blood fouled the expression with its trickle oozing past her lips.

"Karst, what do I do?" Solomon begged, one eye of his weeping tears, the other eye weeping blood.

"...Just go."

Solomon froze.

"...Look at you. You're strong now, Sol… A Gyarados. You can make it without me, you silly fish…" Karst giggled in failing breath.

"...No..." Despite Solomon's transformation, the heart could still be heard in his new intonation. Karst choked on the guilt.

"I'm sorry, Sol… But I can't-"

A dark blue crest interrupted Karst, as it softly sank into the soil before her. Solomon angled his head, and the earth below Karst bulged and split in the cracking of grassy roots and the settling of tiny stones.

"-Sol?"

"Where do I take you? I'll take care of you, Karst. Just don't give up." Solomon's voice pleaded as he gently bore Karst upon his brow.

"Where can I keep you safe?"

Karst felt a lump form within her throat.

But the giggles fought their way past it, meek though they sounded.

"Take care of me? What- How…" Karst coughed on her mirth, flecking the blue crest that she leaned against with blood.

"Please, Karst… I don't know where to go." Solomon begged from below her.

Karst swallowed the lump in her throat. It was a vain hope. A foolish prayer.

But it was the only way that Karst would not be separated from her Solomon.

"South. Find the river."

The Serpent leaned forward, and Karst was held steady against his crest, as Solomon put down his full speed to the south.

"We're here. Which way do I go now?" Solomon halted before the swirling water of the Song River. Karst swallowed her drying tongue, and found her voice in a shallow whisper.

"East. Follow the river east. When you find the forked tributary, follow the stream upriver and into the Sandy Glen."

Solomon didn't hesitate or delay, as he now entered the river for want of more speed and level terrain for his ward.

"Where are we going, Karst?" Solomon asked in a soft voice. Karst inhaled a warbling breath.

"To the Audino. Sol, listen… She… She might not help me."

"Why not? What does she do?" Solomon asked, voice fearful. Karst closed her eyes tightly.

"She's a healer… Our Pack drove her out of her home. But before we- My father… ate her children, and made her watch." Karst murmured.

"What? Why?" Solomon almost froze in shock.

Karst could feel tears forming in her eyes.

"...Because she couldn't save my brother…"

There was no need to hide her tears now. Karst could weep in shame and loss. Death was more likely to ease the pain than the Audino was.

"Sol… Can I… Can I talk to you?" Karst retched.

"Of course, Karst. You don't need to ask-"

"-Sol." Karst interrupted him. Solomon waited silently, as the storm above them began to shift into a new fury.

"-I did something terrible, Sol. Long before I met you. I don't know if I'm going to see the morning, so-"

"-You'll see the morning, Karst. Don't talk like that. You'll see the morning, and I'll see it with you." Solomon was speaking differently. Karst could hear a conviction not formally present in her friend's voice. Solomon didn't seem quite so…

...Awkward.

"Did you change, Sol?" Karst asked softly.

"Don't worry about it, Karst. Just talk. I'll listen." Solomon answered in a hollow voice. Karst hesitated, but the wind in her lungs fed words nonetheless.

"-Well… When I- When I was a cub, I- had a little brother." Karst closed her eyes against the memories.

"A little brother?" Solomon's curious voice asked.

"Yes. My father's heir. The future Alpha. He was born two seasons after me, the last child of my mother, before the illness killed her…" Karst steadied herself, and fought through the shame.

"My father… Well, he's always been cruel, but he became even more vicious when my mother died. He became… obsessed with his legacy. Before my brother came along, my father used to play with me. He used to laugh…" Karst gagged. The memories were too much.

"-Was your father… Kind to you?" Sol dared to ask.

"...He was my father. But he was also the Alpha of the Pack. His offspring needed to be stronger than the rest of the Pack, so kindness? I don't... -He tried." Karst swallowed.

"...But my little brother… He became the favorite when my mother died. I just became a burden to my father. I tried as hard as I could to please him. I was a far more proficient huntress than my little brother, but… My father favored his heir regardless." Karst curled her chin against her chest, as the the shame began to rise.

"My brother was… Well, he was like you. Goofy. Nervous. Needy. Sweet. My father had little tolerance for such softness, and he was determined to harden my little brother into an Alpha. But… When my brother and I played together, away from my father, my brother could be who he was supposed to be…" Karst felt a new wave of tears drowning out her voice.

"But I was young. Selfish. Jealous. I tried so hard to be the Alpha that my father wanted, but my weak brother was the only one my father cared about. I was… I wasn't kind to my little brother, and I tried to exploit his softness."

"You were young, Karst. You were pushed away by your father. You can't begrudge a child for want of a father." Solomon spoke softly, trying to comfort his wounded friend.

"It doesn't make it right. My little brother was the only true friend that I had… And I treated him like a toy." Karst coughed, and more blood was carried out on her breath.

"Easy, Karst. Take it slow. I just found the fork. Keep talking." Solomon calmly reported from beneath Karst, filling the Absol with some small wonder.

"Why do you care about me, Sol?" Karst whispered.

"Because you are my friend, Karst. Now please, talk to me." That was Solomon's voice, but it sounded so different. So…

Confident.

"Well… If I may be short, Sol? I killed my brother."

Solomon came to a stop in the water. Karst gave up. This was the end, and Karst should at least attempt to atone before she died.

"...Just leave me, Sol. I'm not worthy of your friendship." Karst closed her eyes. The Serpent below her trembled.

"Talk." Solomon's voice betrayed his anger, and he swam even further against the current.

"...I told you, Sol. I'm not worth it. You don't need me anymore-"

"I said talk. Not whine."

This was not Solomon beneath Karst. Not the Solomon that she had known, and yet-

"-What happened to you, Sol? Will I ever see my goofy fish again?" Karst whispered in dry loss. Solomon seemed reluctant to speak of it, but having heard Karst's heart poured out to him, Solomon would not conceal his truth from her.

"...Something happened. I don't remember what I was or where I came from… But now I remember who I was. At least- I feel like I'm… whole…" Solomon sounded frustrated, and his strange words brought a curious look from Karst.

"You remember?"

"-No. I don't. But… I'm… You remember how I was dopey?" Solomon asked, slightly bashful. Karst giggled.

"Fondly." Karst replied.

"Well… Let's just say that my heart and brain are one now. I can finally think and act in the way that I'm supposed to-"

"-You're supposed to be a Gyarados?" Karst asked, mystified. Solomon rumbled with some new display of emotion.

"I thought that I was a Magikarp. Why is everyone calling me 'Gyarados' all of the sudden?" Solomon asked, voice growing irritated. Karst couldn't stop giggling.

Her Sol was still there.

He was just a little more prone to anger now.

"Because you're a Gyarados now?" Karst teased.

"Okay… I'll run with that. I was a Magikarp, and now I'm a Gyarados. So what is a Gyarados?" Solomon asked, wrestling his anger back under control. Karst coughed on another fit of giggles. The pain was nearly unbearable, and the cold had not left her body, but her little-big Solomon…

...Could always find a way to make her smile, no matter the torment.

"A legend. The Gyaradosia are supposed to be extinct." Karst whispered.

"Extinct?" Solomon asked, his tone rank with alarm and concern.

"They died out thousands of years ago, when they nearly ate the entire world. There is a legend about how the last Gyarados birthed the Magikarps, but… I've never once heard of a legend regarding a Magikarp becoming a Gyarados." Karst murmured.

"...Something to do with 'him,' I guess." The Serpent muttered under his breath.

"-Who?" Karst asked, worried.

"Don't ask. You don't want to know." Solomon grumbled, before the secretive Serpent adjusted his course.

"We're here."

Karst could feel the smooth water beneath her mount give way to the grinding of sand. On either side of the riverbank, two low walls of white stone rose further beyond into jagged peaks.

"Look for a grassy trail leading to the shore. Follow the scent of berries." Karst instructed, and Solomon tasted the wind with his tongue.

"I can taste the berries… and something… -meat." Solomon hissed, his stomach gurgling. Karst swallowed.

The appetite of the Gyarados was the single most predominant trait told of in the legends.

"Don't eat anything here, Sol. The healer doesn't abide hunting in her home." Karst warned.

"I wasn't going to eat them!" Solomon was a decibel away from a roar. Karst was almost thrown from her perch below his crest when Solomon tossed his head in an angry twist.

What had happened to the meek Magikarp that Karst had loved so much?

"-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to get angry, I just-" Solomon quickly regained himself, and the horror in his voice told of his regret and terror.

"-You're a Gyarados, Sol… You'll always be angry…" Karst whispered gently, trying to soothe the soul beneath her.

"-You mean-?"

"-What you're feeling right now? All that rage? That's you. That will always be you. You can't shut it off, Sol… You'll just… have to learn how to deal with it." Karst breathed out hoarsely.

"Sol- I think I'm-" Karst could barely keep her eyes open. The cold had suddenly grown more invasive.

"Hold on, Karst. I'll get you to the healer." That was the shaken voice of Karst's Magikarp, and its sound played Karst's lips into a fond smile.

"If you don't, Sol… I'm going to be very cross with you." Karst teased, praying that these words would not be her last.

She plucked a berry free from its stem, and tested the firmness of its flesh.

Too ripe.

Eating the berry with a shrug, the green capped Ralts sought another berry on the bush. The storm was getting worse, and the matron had requested extra ingredients for which to prepare. Many would be injured in the coming floods, and if the healer did not have her wares, then the wounded could not afford her mending.

"There we go." The Ralts cooed, finding a sufficiently firm berry in the lower foliage.

Just right. The matron would be pleased.

The Ralts began to hum as she labored, stripping bushes for their rich bounties. The matron had cultivated this meager brood, and though the bushes were few, their fruit was plentiful.

Thunder sounded above her, and the Ralts staggered beneath the rumble.

She didn't like the thunder. This was only her third storm season.

"I hate this… Why can't it be warm and sunny all year?" The Ralts moaned, lifting a leaf above her head to shield her from the rain.

"I just want to be able to sleep without-"

"-Are you the healer?"

The thunder had a voice.

And a very big shadow.

The Ralts dropped her handful of berries. She could hear a rumbling breathing from above her. Her arms were already trembling when she turned around-

-And stood face to face with the biggest mouth that she had ever seen.

"My friend is injured. She needs help, and quickly. Are you the healer?" The mouth begged, and teeth the size of the Ralts herself were revealed in the motions of the mouth's bony lips.

The Ralts ran.

She didn't know what else to do.

Whatever that blue thing was-

-It was suddenly all around her.

A thud sounded in time with a dropping blue plated wall, and the ground between its coils was swallowed by the tightening ring that imprisoned the Ralts.

"Listen to me! I need to find the healer! Tell me where she is!" The Serpent roared above her, and the Ralts fell to the ground weeping.

The matron had promised that she'd be safe. The matron swore that no harm would come to her if she stayed within the matron's lands-

"I'm sorry, I just… Please. I need help." The voice changed from a roar and into a desperate plea.

"Karst? Can you talk to her? Karst? Come on…"

The terifying Serpent was insane. Speaking to 'Karsts' that weren't there?

Then the Ralts saw the blood stained fur of an Absol beyond the blue crest.

"Karst, talk to me. Come on, Karst! Say something!" The monster was injured. One eye was a bleeding pit, with tender membranes dangling from the grotesque ruin. But the other eye-

-Was crying?

"Do something for her! Please!" The Serpent lowered its massive head, and presented the bloodied Absol to the stunned Ralts.

The Ralts swallowed her shock. She didn't know what beast knelt before her, but every predator in the Core Delta knew that the matron didn't heal Absols.

"I- The healer- I-"

It was too big. The Ralts didn't dare to refuse this beast healing services. She had seen wounded customers grow quite violent when the healer refused them aid. But the crafty matron had always made fools of her belligerent visitors.

Though this Serpent was simply too big to say no to. Too scary to turn away.

"Please… She's going to die…"

The snake was too desperate for the Ralts to close her ears to.

"Can I see her?" The Ralts asked nervously.

"Can you help?" The Serpent asked. The Ralts swallowed.

"I'm not the healer, but I am her student. I might be able to keep her alive until we bring her to the matron." The Ralts said in a shaking voice.

"Then do it. Please." The Serpent found a calm, and the Ralts carefully clambered up the beast's uninjured side. The Serpent rose, and the Ralts gasped in terror as the treeline left her peripheral vision.

"Where do we go from here?" The Serpent asked. The Ralts struggled for her bearings, before finally answering the blue Serpent's question.

"South. Try not to crush the berry bushes…" The Ralts murmured as she turned her attentions to the wounded Absol.

"She's not doing well…" The Ralts warned as her hands felt the Absol's neck for a pulse.

"Can you do anything?" The monster begged. The Ralts was already trying.

"I'm holding her blood loss back, but I can't keep my focus up for very long. You need to hurry. The healer can save her… If the healer will save her…" The Ralts reported.

"She'd better…" The Serpent rumbled. Now the Ralts was very frightened.

This monster sounded dangerous.

"Matron!" The Ralts cried out as soon as the Healer's Den came into view. Her matron was in the underloft of the Den-tree, mashing berries into a paste between two stones. Looking up from her duties, the healer was surprised to spy her Ralts riding atop the head of a-

-Gyarados?!

The matron dropped her stone in shock.

They were supposed to be extinct.

"Matron! They're injured!" Her little Ralts was glowing with her species power, clearly attempting to aid some creature on the Gyarados's crown-

-An Absol.

"Healer-" The Gyarados spoke.

It spoke?!

"-My friend needs help! She's dying! Please, will you help her?"

Gyarados.

Friend.

Absol.

Please.

Gyarados?

Friend?

Absol?

Please?!

Was this a Gyarados?

What was going on?

"Matron, she needs help now! I can't keep the blood back-" The piteous moan from her Ralts finally moved the Audino into action.

"Bring her here. Let me see her." The Audino bade. The Gyarados lowered his head, and both the Matron and her Ralts shifted the Absol from the Serpent's crest.

"Gouges and long slashes. Curved entries. An Absol horn made these." The Audino muttered, running her hands across the white fur. Lifting the black face for want of a response, the Audino dropped the Absol in disgust.

"The Alpha's daughter…" The Audino hissed.

"Please… Please, her father almost killed her… She's not like him… Please help her…" The Gyarados was weeping?

"What happened to your eye, Gyarados?" The Audino asked coldly, moving away from the Absol.

"Matron!" The Audino stiffened. Her own Ralts sounded horrified.

"I do not offer my services to the Absols. Not even the Alpha, or his daughter. I will mend your eye for a price, but I will not tend the wretched creature that you brought here." The Audino stated in a iron tone.

"Please… You must help her… Please… I need my Karst…"

What was this thing?

This was no Gyarados. It was too feeble. Too weak. Too-

-Kind?

"...What would you offer me, in return for my services for your friend?" The Audino smelled an advantage. Perhaps she could use this Gyarados's desperation for her own ends.

"Anything! Just save her!"

The Audino smiled.

"Very well. Anything it is, then. Child, help me bring the Absol into the Den. I will return to you shortly, Gyarados. I may not be able to restore your sight, but I can at least save you from an infection." Despite the generosity of her offer, no mannerism could conceal the naked intent in the Audino's voice.

"Just wait out here. 'Anything' from a Gyarados is an offer to be thoughtfully considered…" The Audino murmured, returning to her Ralts in order to assist in the relocation of the Absol.

Leaving Solomon alone to fret in the the early morning.

"She's asleep. It will be quite some time before she recovers, but your Absol friend will live." The Audino reported upon returning to the one-eyed Gyarados. Solomon's breath was released in a shuddering gale.

"Thank you… Thank you!"

"Your eye. Lower it to me." The Audino ordered, and the Serpent placed its head before her.

"-It's too late to restore your sight. As I feared, your optic nerve has already died." The Audino clucked as she inspected the wound.

"Another Absol horn made this, didn't it?" The Audino asked. Solomon nodded.

"A big horn too… Well, the Alpha of the Absols knows the legends. You're lucky that he didn't kill you with this blow. The angle was off. He struck your ridge when he was aiming for your optic foramen. It would have opened a hole directly into your cerebral cavity." The Audino murmured.

"Is she okay?" The Gyarados asked. The Audino sighed.

"How is it that a Gyarados has reappeared in the Core Delta after all of these years free of their monstrous hunger? And how is it that this Gyarados came to be friends with an Absol?" The Audino asked.

"Can we save the small talk for later? How is Karst?" The Gyarados pressed, his voice hinting at agitation.

"Easy now, I'm trying to reconnect your corona tissues. It may not be pretty, but if I can piece the membranes back together… You'll at least have an eye in your socket, even if it is a blind one…" The Audino would not be so easily dissuaded. She was matron here, and not even a Gyarados was going to defy her.

"She's fine, as I told you. Her rear left leg has a shattered femur, and the gouge on her flank has fractured ribs, but… Apart from her blood loss, she was in no immediate danger." The Audino relented.

"Does this hurt?" The matron asked, pulling two torn fibers together.

"Yes." Grumbled the Gyarados.

"Good. Then the nerves are still alive. We may be able to patch this ruin yet." Blood caked the Audino's arms and chest, but despite her herbivore diet, the gore did not sicken her.

She had handled oceans of blood in her time.

"Who are you?" The Gyarados asked. The Audino smirked.

"I am the healer. I have lived within the Core Delta for nigh on a millenia. Only a handful of the Ninetails are as old as I am." The Healer stated smugly.

"A millenia?!" The Gyarados sounded shocked.

"New to the Core Delta?" The Audino laughed, leaning inside the Gyarados's socket.

"I haven't been here for very long." The Gyarados replied.

"Where did you come from?" The Audino asked, curious. She felt the beast roll beneath her with a swallow.

"I still don't remember…" That drew a pause from the healer's ministrations.

"Amnesia? Interesting…" The Audino's voice echoed slightly in the Gyarados's skull.

"-What a mess. Those Absol horns are so vile…" The Audino grumbled, snipping a ragged fiber with her teeth.

The Gyarados rumbled and tensed.

"Take it easy… I'm almost done." The Audino chided, smiling to herself.

This Gyarados had an unusually high pain threshold for its species. The legends stated that spilling one's blood was akin to inviting catastrophe, but this Gyarados seemed to restrain itself against such violent passions.

"I'd like to know the story, if you wouldn't mind. It's not everyday that a Gyarados wanders into my home with a wounded Absol on its head." The Audino pushed.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not comfortable discussing that with strangers." The Gyarados replied. The Audino chuckled.

"Strangers? My dear Gyarados… I am no stranger. I am your master, and your master wants to hear your story." The Audino swooned with laughter.

"Excuse me?" The Gyarados rumbled.

"Well… temporary master. You must pay for my services, as all others must do. Upon fulfillment of your debt, I will release you and your Absol companion… You did say 'anything,' right?" The Audino stroked a raw nerve with her fingertip, and the Gyarados hissed a warning.

"I will pay my debt." The Gyarados rumbled.

"Good. Good for you. Better for your friend." The Audino smirked.

"So will you tell your master your story?" The Audino mocked.

"Amnesia. I don't remember." The Gyarados grumbled. The Audino snorted.

"Right. Clever fish…" The Audino finished cleaning the wound.

"Okay. Close your other eye, and relax. This will feel… weird." The Audino summoned up her focus, while the Gyarados steadied himself for whatever lay ahead. Pouring her focus into the wound, the Audino began to forcibly incite cellular division within the ruined tissues of the Gyarados's socket. The membranes began to connect, before both time and necrosis could forever separated them. She continued emptying her focus into the restored eye, until the optical structure possessed foundation enough to hold itself together.

"As I said… Blind." The Audino fell back with a heavy sigh.

"It's too bad really. That eye could have come in handy…" The Audino sat her bloodied figure down against the earth.

"How did you-" The Gyarados began in a startled breath.

"-I'm the healer, remember?" The Audino answered smugly.

"I can't heal it all the way. It can be dangerous if the tissues reconnect improperly. A natural pace grants me the time to inspect and direct. That, and I'm afraid that I can't just spend myself on you alone. Your friend has already consumed a vast portion of my reserves, and there are others who will come here, seeking my services. Sleep out here, and do not worry about your Absol friend. She is in good hands. The little one is watching over her now." The Audino made to leave, seemingly exhausted.

"Thank you." Solomon murmured. The Audino froze.

What manner of Gyarados was this thing?

"Don't thank me yet. I still expect more than gratitude for my services." The Audino warned.

Solomon sighed softly, and coiled up beneath the falling rain, watching the healer return to her treeborn den.

"Go to sleep, Gyarados, or I'll have the little one put you to sleep as well." The healer chided, disappearing into the thatched loft of her Den.

"Thank you…" Solomon whispered, before sleep claimed his weary form.

White. White legs. Gold. Gold Cage. Red. Red eyes. And me. Me standing before him.

I am different now. Stronger than I was, and though my mind and heart are reunited as one, I am as lost as I have ever been.

I made the choice. It's what he tells me. He sounds pleased, though cautious. Respectful? Does he fear me?

He laughs, as my thoughts are known to him.

No. He does not fear me. But he does not wish to anger me.

My eye. Was it the sacrifice? Was it the cost of my choice? He sighs, and lowers his red eyes.

Yes, he tells me. But my eye was but one piece of the sacrifice. He tells me that I gave up something else in my choice.

For her, it is worth it. That is what I say. He looks at me oddly. How far will I go for her? He asks me.

As far as is necessary.

He shakes his head. Is he disappointed? No.

He is sorrowful. His head descends, and the vacant look crosses his face again.

He tells me that it is a mistake, to act so blindly on the behalf of only one. He tells me that I will need to consider others, and how my actions perpetrated for her could affect them.

He tells me to be mindful, or else I shall become like him…

Who are you? I ask, and the God looks up in distress.

I grow cold. I know that look.

That is my look...

He can't remember who he is…

I passed the trial, he murmurs, though not as he intended.

Now I grow angry. Was I to simply let her die?

He chuckles briefly at my question. He tells me that it is not a bad thing for me to have succeeded where he has failed.

What am I doing? What is my purpose here? Why does a God need me? He swallows, and then warns me against the knowing portents ahead of my time.

I'm growing furious. I want to destroy-

He answers me suddenly.

He is dying, and he needs me to save his world before he passes.

The rage ebbs. God is dying?

He ignores my question. He asks me about the rage.

I am cold again. Numb.

I know that this anger was never a part of who I was.

No, he tells me. I was not a destroyer. But I am now.

A destroyer? Am I not his savoir? His chosen sacrifice?

...Oh no…

He wouldn't-

He is crying again. Am I to destroy this world? Is that what he intends?!

He speaks meekly, stating that there are three outcomes to the final trial. The final trial that first began when he brought me here. One of them saves the world. One of them leaves it to die. And the other…

The other has me eating him, and using his power to destroy this world.

Too much for now, he tells me. I know too much. He will shelter me from the knowledge, but I must be ever mindful. Every action that I take has consequences beyond mundane sight. He tells me to return to her, and cherish what I have.

For no matter what ending comes…

A sacrifice must be made.