Ghost's Call

Oh how we tried to be freed...


"They are coming, Child of Light. They come to stain and scar your world."

The Child was ailing. Shadows were trained upon her with unwavering focus, predators poised to strike. Her countenance, her constitution, failing.

An old familiar soul watched her with a protective gaze, not unlike her brother's, but also far more reserved. Like a fleeting wisp of cloud, the ghost drifted past her again and again, waiting for its opportunity. She was more elusive than memory served.

In her dreams it had reached her, tracking her presence down in the depths of her mental ocean. She was nothing more than her crest down there, locked away and abandoned. The Crest of Light rendered latent. But the ghost spoke, and she listened. Then she woke, and the ghost once again was lost to the digital ether. The hope that she might consider the warning was shortly abandoned. She was troubled, shaken to the point of crumbling, yet she did not seek anyone's aid.

The ghost's soul was rent with regret as it became clear the warning did more harm than good. The darkness began to spread and thicken throughout the twilight of the Real, and the Chosen Children's safety and stability grew increasingly endangered. The ghost's eyes were trapped within the barriers of the worlds, and could see what the children didn't. Darkened creatures lurked, drawn to strife. Sable bones, inky blood, black skin. To the children, shadows were merely the absence of light. But to the ghost, that absence gave home to a churning Blight. The shadows were alive in of themselves, rotting though they may be.

Something had sunken its terror-inducing claws into the Child's brother.

The ghost couldn't muster the energy to speak into the Real as it once did. Electronics were unaffected by its ever dwindling presence; shadows didn't bend to its will like they did for the Blighted ones. Its soul was nothing more than a weakening flame that had burned far too low, flickering and sputtering as it chewed away the last of its wick. But still it remained lit, straining to deliver one last message. Unable to project a physical voice, the ghost had resorted to inserting thoughts into the Child's dreams, attempting to speak from within the induced nightmares.

Now, with her brother keeping her awake, even those dreams escaped its grasp. The ghost watched her wake him, saw the fear and desperation in his eyes. Hope fanned the small flame. Perhaps the brother would rise to her aid.

The Child of Light's face was dark, her eyes shrouded. She refused the offer of help; the flame nearly died.

The ghost clung to her shadow as she went about her daily morning routine. She was exhausted and miserable, her demeanor a stark contrast to the familiar cheerfulness that her companions were familiar with. There was still the hope that their intervention would be soon and in earnest. But as the ghost saw the Child's brother struggle to maintain focus and composure, that hope continued to fail. The warning had only succeeded in destabilizing the children's precious strengths.

The wisp of a soul dogged her as the morning turned into day, and her unwilling body trudged onward. Her brother had nearly refused to let her go. She went regardless. A miserable existence for humans, the ghost mused. Expectations and obligations coming before personal well-being.

Her digimon was with her as well, and the ghost watched with longing. When the opportunity came, the next attempt at contact would be through the Child's partner. At least she would recognize the old soul's words. She had to. Time was running thin.

As the Child trekked towards her school, the Child of Hope shortly came into the picture. His countenance was soft, and his smile still rang true. The ghost took comfort until it became apparent that even he was now under the influence, from the tell-tale tired face and baggy eyes. Clouds of worry billowed in his blue eyes as he looked upon the Child of Light.

This wasn't good.

His light should have chased away the web of darkness that had blighted her, but now the opposite seemed to be happening. Her irritability was somehow more contagious than his optimism.

A few words were exchanged by the two, but by the time the children had arrived at their destination, both were drawn inwards entirely, focusing on their own failing moods instead of each others'. Urgency sparked in the ghost's soul.

Who would be the first to come to their senses and heed the warnings? Perhaps the one they called Miracles?

The children's schoolday passed like a snail. Hours dragged unpleasantly by, and the old soul could see the signs and results of the children's weakening. Shadows were darker than normal. Lightless places seemed living with what was slowly boiling over from the other world. The Blight was striving to spread, with the Chosen's insecurity paving the way.

Finally, the bells tolled throughout the campus, and young kids scattered from the schoolgrounds like leaves in the wind. Only then did hope return as a comfort to the ghost. The Chosen were gathering. Each was distressed in their own way, out of sorts, ill at ease. The Child of Light was once again attempting to avoid them, but they wouldn't let her. Not today.

Her blond friend was especially adamant, a gesture that stoked the small flame within the ghost. It heard him approach as it traced the girl's movements step by step with its shadowy presence.

"C'mon Kari," he was saying. His voice was stern, but not unkind. "We need to talk. All of us."

The Child would have obviously refused if the boy hadn't taken her arm and led her after him. The ghost could hear the tiniest grumble slip from her throat. She followed him nevertheless, allowing him to bring her to meet the rest of the children at their customary space underneath a courtyard birch.

Perhaps the ghost had worried unnecessarily. The children's true strength lay in their unification. If they were already gathering to discuss a rash of restlessness within their ranks, they just might possess the discernment to understand and heed the ghost's warning.

Now if only the Child of Light would truly cooperate.

Six of the Chosen had successfully gathered, five of whom carried the distinct look of stressed exhaustion. Only four pairs of eyes were clouded by the haunting they had received from the darkened nightmares however. But one single child seemed to be unfazed by the Blight seeping into Odaiba. Miracles.

"Jeez guys," he said when the children assembled. "You all look like your own version of death. What's going on?"

Energetic quips and curious questioning did nothing to lift the mood of the afflicted Chosen. His words were met by little more than shrugs.

"Didn't sleep well." The Child of Hope was the first to admit, at long last. His confession sparked the others. One by one they agreed. Courage. Knowledge. Fidelity.

Miracles looked at the final girl in question. Light. The one that everyone knew had been troubled the most over the past two days. She relented, and the ghost's soul burned with renewed vigor.

"Yeah. Me too," she said meekly.

Her brother watched her closely before speaking. "Bad dreams?"

A small nod came in response, mirrored by a couple others.

"Same here," he said. "What about you, TK?"

Hope lifted his lidded eyes. The ghost could discern what went unseen by the children: the absence of the haunt. Had the claws of the Blight not reached him?

"Nothing like that," replied Hope. "Don't remember any dreams. I just couldn't fall asleep."

Courage returned his gaze to his sister with a sudden intensity. "But you? You've been having nightmares?"

The girl slightly shrunk from his ardent advance. "A little, yeah."

"For how long?!"

Miracles voiced his confusion, apparently not understanding the cause for concern. "Whoa seriously, what's with you guys? What's so bad about a couple of spooky dreams?"

"Nothing," the Child of Light said, dampening the ghost's spirits. She glanced up at her brother. "It's not like I haven't had bad dreams before, Tai."

He was not convinced, and Knowledge came to speak what he was thinking. "Yes, we've all had bad dreams. But all of us going through this at the same time can't be a coincidence. After all... Well, it's us. The DigiDestined. Maybe these dreams are a sign. Or like a portent."

"Like how we'd get prophecies right before something big happened," Courage added.

"Yeah, like that."

Miracles spoke. "So what, you want us on red alert just because of this? How come I haven't had any of these dreams?"

"Careful what you wish for, Davis."

"What? I just want to be in on it."

"There's nothing to be in on," Light said tersely. She turned and lowered her head, eyes resting upon her shadow. The ghost looked back up at her from where it lurked. The girl took one more step before pausing and glancing over at the one called Fidelity. "Yolei, please stop staring. It's really nothing."

The other shook her head, visibly flustered. "Maybe it isn't, but I can't shake the feeling these dreams mean something, you know? What if they are a sign? I don't want... I don't want anything bad to happen."

"Nothin' bad's gonna happen, you guys." Miracles cut in. "You really gotta quit it. Whatever's out there doesn't stand a chance against us anyway. We can take on anything!"

"Right!" Cheered several of the digimon from within the branches of the tree overhead. The Child of Light walked up to the trunk and let her hands out to summon her partner.

"I'm going home," she said simply before starting on her way.

"Okay," replied Fidelity before addressing the others. "Hey, did either of you guys get Cody's homework?"

"Why would we?" Barked Miracles.

"Uh, 'cause he went home sick? Davis, I told you at the beginning of the day! Do you have any consideration at all in that pea-sized brain?"

"Relax, I've got it," Hope cut in with a soft chuckle. The remaining jeers and jabber faded into the background as the ghost's host continued on out of earshot. She seemed to care little about anything else that was to be discussed with her fellow Chosen, opting instead on retreating home as fast as possible.

It watched her digimon in the meantime with a pensive mood, reminiscing on its old friend lost through tragedy. The years had been too long. The tired soul was spread thin as the foam upon ocean water - easily broken and nearly lost to the eroding waves of time. Time that suddenly was no longer an ally. Tonight was its last chance.

The Child's brother followed her closely on her journey through the busy afternoon city after saying goodbye to the Chosen behind them. His anxiety was nearly palpable, fueling the uneasy atmosphere that blanketed the siblings. The ghost couldn't allow this distress to continue. The barrier between worlds must be kept strong, and the children losing focus and confidence was only going to weaken it. It waited and waited for its opportunity, watching the two as they arrived home and finished the day's routine.

Strength all but gone, the spirit remained within Light's shadow. There was no spare energy left to move itself. When the time came, it would reach out to the digimon as it slept next to the girl, and deliver its final message.

Night came, deepening and feeding the Blighted darkness until it foamed at the mouth, raring for its prey.

The siblings readied for bed, but only the Child of Light made the attempt at sleep. The brother sat at his desk with textbook in his lap. His eyes were wide and stricken with an angry red. The girl's digimon sat at the edge of the desk, watching him.

"Tai, shouldn't you sleep?" The digimon asked.

The boy looked up at where his sister lay in the top bunk and glowered. His already ragged face darkened even further as he sulked. "How can I? Something's obviously wrong with her."

"I know. I've felt it myself. She's sleeping now though. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day."

"I just wish she'd tell me what's bothering her." The boy put his head in his hands, tangling his fingers in his hair. "I never have dreams like this. I can't shake it."

He stood suddenly, the legs of his chair scraping along the wooden floor and effectively waking the slumbering girl.

"I have to do something."

The Child of Light stirred and lifted her heavy head. Eyes still sealed shut, her lips cracked open and let out a droning groan, "Ta-ai..."

"Sorry."

Head dropped to pillow, and the room was silent for a long moment. Tainted darkness built up around the girl as she burrowed under the covers, famished and waiting to prey upon her vulnerable mind. The ghost meanwhile sat entrapped within the shadows, agonizing over the delay of her brother waking her. It felt itself sinking into the dark, slowly melding with the ethereal where its soul would be lost completely. As its grasp on the Real World weakened, so did its flame dim with dying light. There was no time to wait for the digimon to sleep. The ghost would have to risk its last chance on the girl.

Slithering up her bed, the spirit lingered by her face. She had dozed off again already, exhaustion successfully taking her under and turning her over to the Blighted darkness. It stroked her hair with unreal claws and watched the wince twist at her complexion. She was dreaming. The claw slipped into her head effortlessly, latching onto the presence of her mind that resided inside. With contact made, the ghost pulled itself painstakingly in to join her within the world her troubled imagination created.

Regrettably, there was no body for the ghost to possess even here. It had hoped against reason that it would regain its form in the dream world, but that was not to be. After all, even the Child of Light was less than whole in this place. The ghost saw her several paces away, alone beneath all of oblivion and her form nothing more than a small pink wisp. It was small comfort seeing her in that state. Darkness infinite surrounded her, though a small watery light filtered down upon her from far above. The ghost approached her, dreading the moment that it would attempt to deliver its last message. Despair and desperation tugged at its immaterial heart until it felt like it would snap in two. The Child of Light must be warned, but it feared the outcome should she ignore its plea.

"Hikari."

The spirit had finally spoke, its voice somehow tangible and true. The pink wisp wavered and wafted in place, showing that she had heard.

"Who are you?" Came her response, her words even smaller than her minuscule presence.

"A messenger. I told you once before, Child. They are coming."

As the ghost recited the words, it noticed how the girl's spirit gradually took form as she spoke. It wondered if, perhaps, it took on its own former self as it addressed her. Traces of an environment were slowly drawing themselves around the two, transporting them out of the abyss and into a recognizable world. A world soon to be doomed to the Blight. The ghost saw the futility of its errand manifest in the place they now stood. Broken buildings. Black clouds. There was no good in warning the children if nothing they could do would stop the coming tribulation. Still the ghost continued. It must speak its peace. Its soul had wandered in worry and regret far too long to let this go unsaid. The future was presenting itself around them, and it could not let that reality come to pass.

"Rally your comrades. War is coming to engulf your land and the lands of your partners. Be ready and remain true. But most of all, steel yourself. They are coming for you, Child of Light, and what you hold dear."

"I don't- ...Why us?" She stood before the ghost now as a tiny girl, no older than nine. Seeing her in such a state brought back old memories and new regret. Its soul had been bound to her and her digimon for so many years. What a waste it would be to let all that pain and sacrifice end in failure. An especially miserable existence this human must have, being a Chosen. The sorrowful ghost almost pitied her.

"You are the DigiDestined," it said to answer her question. "Your very lives hold balance to the seal that keeps the worlds in harmony. Without you, there would be naught but chaos."

The threads of the soul's fragile existence began to unravel. Weakening drastically, the ghost knew its time was up. Yet, as it looked upon the Child, it saw recognition finally fill her face. The shape of its spirit must have finally taken on a form she knew. They stood there nearly breathless, the environment around them taking on the familiar scene of the old TV station rooftop in Odaiba.

"Wizardmon?" She breathed.

The ghost nodded. Agony speared through the remains of its presence as it realized the rooftop was falling away beneath it. Its spirit was drifting. Time was up. The ghost called out to her one last time.

"Tell Gatomon I miss her."

Hands clasped over her mouth, the girl helplessly watched her short-lived companion disperse into the winds. Her teary eyes were the last thing it would see before blackness streaked across its vision, its presence struck out of existence like a deleted file. Wizardmon was, once again and with finality, no more.


PS

Happy New Year everyone!

Very mixed feelings about this chapter, but it somehow kept writing itself so I guess I can't complain there. Moving on slowly.

PPS: My new story will definitely take place after Tri. Had picked out a cute place on the beach in Odaiba to start the narrative and come to find out they actually used that exact spot in Tri... I need to just up and visit Tokyo already huh...