The Northern Kingdom

Part Twenty: It's Hard Enough to Live

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Digimon, etc, does not belong to me. Plot, however, does. In short, don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo.

Moo.

The early morning sun was poking through a set of sheer curtain panels that covered a tall glass window, one of many that lined both sides of the long hallway. It was completely empty, except for a single overstuffed armchair, in which a young woman was seated, eyes shut.

A tall door on one end of the hallway quietly creaked open, and Ken poked his head through. Upon seeing Miyako, seated in the middle of the hallway, he stepped through the doorway and let it close behind him.

"Any luck?" he questioned when he'd reached a spot not more than a step from her chair.

With a heavy sigh, Miyako opened her eyes and shook her head. "No. It's the most puzzling thing. I can follow his trail to the bottom of the mountain, and then it disappears. I suppose it's the snow and the mountains interfering."

"The only way to know for sure would be to go back there and look for him."

"Yeah, and walk right in front of Xiao. I'm not exactly eager to do that, either." Sighing yet again, Miyako turned her mind away from this thought. "How's he doing?"

The sun was shining brightly, reflecting off the pristine whiteness of the snow. Miyako pulled the hood of her cloak down over her eyes and surveyed the land that stretched out in front of her. A strong wind blew past her, and she grabbed the end of her scarf and pulled it tighter around her neck. Beside her, she could hear her partner's feathers ruffling in the wind, and glanced up to see that Aquilamon was anxious to start flying on such a clear day. With the strong wind blowing in their favor, the trip would be speedy.

"Are you sure it's a good idea," he questioned, nodding back toward the building, "to bring him along?"

A short distance away, they could see two people slowly making their way toward them from the entrance of the healing house. Both were dressed in long, warm cloaks designed to keep off the snow and the cold wind.

"It's only been three days," Miyako said with a sigh, "and already I can see that he's hating being here." She shook her head. "The longer he stays here, the worse he'll get. Oh, I don't mean his leg or his eye," she added before her partner could point out the irrationality of this statement. "I mean his spirit. Staying here, he's got nothing to think about but her…."

"I suppose you're right," Aquilamon conceded. "Still, to go so near to Xiao? It's like tempting him to make a move…."

"Are you ready?" Ken asked then, as they had come close enough to be heard. He glanced toward Miyako as he spoke, but she could see that he was more speaking to Daisuke, who wasn't looking particularly pleased about the idea of traveling.

"I'm ready," he said, and as he turned to peer out over the horizon, Miyako caught sight of his face. His left eye was completely covered with a faded blue scrap of cloth that had been tied around his head.

Miyako didn't feel as though she completely believed this statement. He didn't look as though he was happy or unhappy to be leaving the healing house.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked, watching as he climbed aboard the giant bird with only a slight bit of difficulty. "It seems like you're walking a bit easier…."

"A little," he admitted, once more not seeming to be happy or unhappy about this development. "It doesn't hurt as much."

"I still think," she went on, settling into a comfortable position, "that it's absolutely ridiculous that they couldn't do something about your eye. I mean, what good is healing magic if it can't work any better than a doctor?"

"They did do something," he replied, speaking slightly louder because the sound of the wind increased as Aquilamon took to the sky. "It's only that it'll take more than three days to heal."

"Hmm," Miyako answered. "As I said, no better than what Jyou could have done back home with a few potions."

It was afternoon by the time they landed, a few hours from sunset. Ken was already there, looking closely at a particular section of ground near the base of the mountain. Miyako glanced upward toward the top of the peak and shuddered.

If she fell, she thought darkly, thinking of Hikari, from that great of a height, is there any way she could have survived?

She could sense nothing of Hikari's magic, the use of which would have been the only possibility of survival. This did not mean that it had not been used, as it had been several days since that time and any such trace would likely have dissipated.

"Do you see anything?" she questioned of Ken. "Anything at all?"

"I thought I saw a sign of a recent campfire back that way," he said, pointing away from the mountain, "but no sign of footprints or tracks. It's been a few days. It's probably snowed since then."

"So, nothing conclusive," she concluded with a sigh.

"Do you sense anything?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"It's been a few days."

There was a long silence. Daisuke yawned and sat down in the snow, feeling tired. They had left in the early morning and been flying most of the day. Ken walked about a bit longer, studying the ground more closely, and Miyako shut her eyes and listened to what was carried on the wind. V-mon fell on to his partner's lap and closed his eyes, ready for a nap.

"There's a village near here," Miyako said then, opening her eyes. "If Takeru and the others aren't camping out in the middle of nowhere, I would guess that they headed for the village."

"How far is it from here?" Hawkmon questioned.

"I'm not sure," she confessed. "It's hard to say. I'd guess not more than an hour's walk, maybe two. Look, it's worth a try to head for the village and see what could be found. Maybe someone there's seen something."

Ken shrugged in agreement. Daisuke yawned again and set to work getting to his feet, which, thanks to the not-quite-healed condition of his left leg was not an easy task. He managed to do so with the assistance of a pole that the healers had given him for use as a walking stick. Watching him, Miyako noted the grim expression of pain that briefly passed over his face.

"Maybe you should stay here," she said after a moment. For a half-second, perhaps less, she noted that he seemed unhappy about this idea, but it faded almost as soon as she'd noticed it. Still, she thought, it was progress.

"Alone?" Ken questioned. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"He really ought to rest that leg," Miyako pointed out. "It would not be resting it to walk a few hours to a village. It would probably make it worse."

"That is true," Hawkmon agreed, nodding.

"Yes," Ken said, speaking slowly, "but we're in the middle of nowhere…."

"And it's cold," Wormmon pointed out.

"And," Ken went on, and glanced briefly upward.

"All the same," she answered. "Unless you want to carry him?"

"I could walk," Daisuke interrupted with a dry sort of tone that made the others immediately aware of the fact that they had been speaking about him as though he was not present.

There was a brief moment of embarrassed silence before Miyako shook her head. "You could, and you'd be in pain for the next week."

"I'm already in pain," he said in a quiet voice. Miyako sighed and wondered if she ought to be pleased that he was managing to argue with her despite the effects of the spell. It had always been the nature of their relationship that she and Daisuke had spent more time arguing than anything else, and the fact that he was willing to engage in debate even now was a good sign. On the other hand, it was as frustrating as always.

Again there was a silence as she considered, and then she shook her head. "No, you're better off staying here for now. I'm not going to let it get any worse," she added firmly before he could show signs of protesting. "Seek shelter if you need to, and stay out of sight, but don't stray too far. We'll be back before nightfall."

He shrugged absently, as thought it didn't matter much to him one way or the other, and Miyako hefted her bag over her shoulder and headed off in the direction she had sensed the village. After a moment, Ken followed after her.

Daisuke watched them go for a long moment and then sighed and sat down in the snow once more. Though he hadn't wanted to admit it, he was pleased to have been left behind, as his leg was hurting and he was tired and not looking forward to a long walk. V-mon sat down beside him and for a long time there was silence in the valley.

"I think," V-mon said after some time, "that the Igamon have been here."

"Wouldn't be surprised," Daisuke answered. He shut his eyes and fell back in the snow, feeling tired.

"No," the digimon disagreed, shaking his head. "I mean recently."

Daisuke opened his good eye and squinted at his partner through the bright sunlight. "You see footprints?" he questioned.

"No," the other admitted, "but I have a bad feeling. Maybe we should find shelter."

"Yeah," Daisuke answered. "Probably." He didn't move for a few moments, however.

After some time, he sat up again, reflecting that it would likely be a bad idea to fall asleep in the snow. A few snowflakes floated past his eye and a gentle breeze scattered the snow in the air. A cloud passed in front of the sun, dimming the brightness.

"I smell snow," V-mon noted, and turned back to see that his partner was getting to his feet. "I think a storm's coming."

"It would be my luck," his partner agreed with a resigned sort of sigh. "I wonder if there is any place around here to take shelter?"

"Maybe," the digimon said hopefully, "there's a cave in the mountain? If we head closer to the rocks…."

"Maybe," Daisuke admitted, and they slowly began to make their way through the snow toward the mountain behind them. It was not a far distance, but it was slow going. Each step caused him more pain than he was willing to admit to, and the snow beneath his feet grew deeper with each step. The wind grew stronger, and the snow slowly began to fall more heavily.

"Tell me again why we couldn't stay back at the healing house?" V-mon shouted over the sound of the wind roaring in his ears. Being cold never made him happy. "It was warm there!"

Daisuke didn't bother to shout back an answer, only forced the walking stick into the snow in front of him and focused on making his legs carry him forward. He lifted his head and squinted through the wind, hoping to see that there was an opening in the rocky wall nearby, and that it was not more than a few steps away. He saw nothing, however, save a blur of white snow flying in the wind.

Suddenly, the wind shifted and changed directions, and the smell of wood smoke greeted his nose. It smelled warm and inviting, and he paused in his steps and turned his head, trying to determine where it was coming from. With any luck, some other travelers were taking shelter in a cave or a tent nearby and had lit a fire to keep warm.

"Over there!" V-mon called, and Daisuke turned his head in the direction his partner pointed. He could see the wisps of smoke as they floated through the darkening sky, but it took a few moments before he was able to figure out where they were coming from.

It appeared at first glance that the smoke was coming from the side of the mountain, but as they came closer, it became clear that a small house was built into the side of the rocks. The rear wall was the mountain itself, as it had naturally stood for centuries, but the other four walls had been constructed from similar stone. Even the roof of the building was made to appear as though it were part of the rocky hill.

The only way in which any visitor would ordinarily be able to tell that it was in fact a building would be by the smoke billowing out of a space in the roof. Daisuke, however, was lucky enough so that at this moment the door of the house was slightly ajar, and a bit of light was seeping out into the dimness of the outside world.

"Finally," he mumbled to himself, "a bit of luck."

The village was eerily quiet, a condition which Miyako chose to attribute to the cold weather. The locals, assuming that they were not stupid, were likely holed up in warm houses beside roaring fires, safe from the increasingly bitter and cold winds. There was no immediate evidence that Takeru, Li Tan, and Shijo had been here, but nor was there immediate evidence that anyone lived there at all.

The houses were hastily constructed buildings made of wood and looking to Miyako's eyes as though a strong wind might blow them over immediately. Puffs of smoke emerged from the chimneys, thus proving that the village was not completely abandoned.

"I have a bad feeling about this place," Ken mumbled in a low voice, and when Miyako glanced in his direction, she saw that his eyes were narrowed in a suspicious expression.

She took a deep breath and summoned her magical senses, hoping to detect a sign of Takeru. Though he did not have much in the way of practical magical ability, he did have something, and as such it was possible that Miyako could detect his presence and track him with the use of her magic. This was not an easy task, however.

As she did so, there was a creaking noise and Ken turned sharply to see that a door opened and a single man stepped out of a nearby house. He was dressed, as they were, in a long, fur-lined cloak with a large hood that mostly obscured his face. A thick, dark beard was all that was visible as a defining characteristic.

"State thy purpose here," he intoned, and his voice was deep and commanding. Ken supposed that he might be the leader of this village.

"We're looking for friends of ours," he replied, deciding that it was best to be truthful as possible. "Have you seen any strangers in this area lately?"

The man was silent a moment as he considered his response. "Strangers, aye. Merchandise, aye."

"Merchandise?" Wormmon echoed, and Miyako opened her eyes and turned toward the man. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ken raised one arm up in a motion intended to stop her.

"You're traders, then?" he questioned.

The man shrugged. "At times," he replied. "What price might thee pay to retrieve thy…friends?"

"It would depend," Ken answered, "on whether or not you actually have them."

"And if I do?"

"If you do," he said, stressing the if, "then we might negotiate."

The man was silent a moment, and Miyako bit her lip to keep from speaking. After a long moment, he nodded.

"Wait here," he said, and then disappeared back inside the building from which he had come.

There was silence for a moment, and then Miyako let out the breath she'd been holding and said in a tense whisper, "Is this entire kingdom interested only in trading slaves?"

"Probably not. Only the ones we're lucky enough to meet," he answered. "Any sign of Takeru?"

"He was here," she replied. "I can't say when, or if he still is, but I sense enough of his presence to know that he was. I'm hoping…and yet dreading…that he and the others might be what this man is talking about."

The door creaked open once more and the man they had been speaking with reemerged from the building. "Come this way," he said, and walked across the center of the small village.

A step away from the door, Daisuke could feel a bit of warmth seeping out from the inner chamber of the hidden building. He paused for a moment, both for rest and to feel the comfort of a bit of warmth after so much time spent out in the cold. As he did so, however, he heard the sound of something solid colliding with something else solid. The sound of a voice grunting in pain accompanied the thud of collision, suggesting that one of the things was living.

"Monster!" said a different voice. "What monster would cause harm to a healer?"

"What healer is he?" came the reply. "He hath never healed my people! Not so well as he hath healed that one!" This voice held a great deal of bitterness.

The sound of a struggle followed these words, and Daisuke slowly slid the last step to the door, leaning up against the side of the house so that he might see past the doorway. He could see at first only wooden walls constructed within the rocks to give the place a warmer feeling, and then he saw a bit of grey fur fly past his vision and saw that a Gazimon was furiously scuffling with another digimon. It took a few more moments before he was able to identify the other as an Alraumon, for the two were rolling around the floor with such speed that it was difficult to clearly make out what they were.

"Now, for once," went on the voice which had shown such bitterness, "he hath brought something of value to our village. What luck have I that I might be the first…."

"You mean the last!" retorted a female voice, and the bitter-sounding man cried out in pain.

At almost the exact moment that this cry sounded, the Alraumon that had been struggling with the Gazimon cried out, and though Daisuke could not see where it was, he could hear a second thud as it collided somewhere. "I'm sorry," said the Alraumon, its voice sounding weak.

"Daisuke!" V-mon whispered, tugging at the edge of his partner's cloak. He nodded toward the doorway, indicating that he obviously thought it would be best to interfere in whatever was happening.

"What good would I be?" he returned, gesturing toward his mostly-useless left leg. "I can't fight anything…."

"So that's it, then?" his partner asked. "We do nothing?"

A cold gust of wind chose that precise moment to send a blast of snow towards them both. At the same time, the sound of renewed scuffling from beyond the door distracted Daisuke from his partner's questions. With some effort, he crossed the doorway so that he might see inside from the other direction.

"Thou thinks thou shall fare any better than that one?" said a gruff voice that must have come from the Gazimon. "Whatever thou art, there's no female that hath ever managed to defeat me."

"Then I," replied the female voice, "will be the first to humiliate you!"

Something about the angry, screeching sort of manner in which this last statement was delivered caused a distant sort of memory in Daisuke's mind to twinge. He frowned, wondering why it was that these memories chose to return to him at such odd moments. Past the door rolled the Gazimon and whatever it was he was now fighting, a white-colored digimon with a long tail….

"Tailmon!" V-mon gasped out in a sharp whisper, and lunged through the door to join the fray before Daisuke had completely determined what was going on. Before long, the blur of fighting digimon was three colors, white, gray, and blue.

Sighing with reluctance, for he knew that he could not abandon his partner in this strange quest of his, Daisuke pulled the hood of his cloak better over his head and pushed open the door to the strange hidden building.

From the inside, it appeared to be a very small sort of house. The wall to his left was home to a massive fireplace that was doing its job of heating not only the building but also a large pot of some sort of stew that was hung over the flames. The walls were made mostly of wood, to further insulate against the cold stone and the wicked winds beyond, and there were no windows visible. A small table was in the center of the room to which he now entered. A single plate was set on the table, and the remains of a second were on the floor nearby. One of the chairs had been thrown to the floor and now lay in front of the fireplace on its side. Another had simply fallen backwards beside the table itself, and the third was still standing.

The Alraumon was lying on the ground beside what must be his partner, an elderly man with a long white beard who looked to be unconscious. He was lying still with his eyes shut, and his partner was doing the same. A few bottles of an unknown substance had fallen to the floor from the fireplace mantle, and small bits of broken glass now covered the floor of what would be considered the kitchen area. Amidst this chaos, the blur of three digimon fighting randomly danced around the room, occasionally knocking over another bottle or some other object.

Daisuke thought absently that he did not envy the cleanup that would be required when this was all over, and then turned his head toward the right to see that this wall was made entirely of curtains. One had been yanked down from its hangings to lie in a pool on the floor, and the other had been pushed aside so that the room beyond might clearly be seen from the doorway. A second, smaller fireplace was within that room, with only a small blaze burning within, and a large, wooden bed took up most of the remaining space.

Upon the bed was the man who had spoken with such bitterness, and who was most likely the partner of the Gazimon with which V-mon was now fighting. He, too, was fighting with some person beneath him that Daisuke could not clearly see through his back. Whoever this person was, they were fighting with great rage, and this was only managing to anger the man even more. He grabbed hold of a wrist in each hand and pushed them back on to the mattress beneath them, but the woman beneath only fought back now with her legs, kicking him solidly in the stomach. He pulled back, grunting in pain, and briefly released his hold upon her wrists. Encouraged by this freedom, the woman quickly scuttled backwards in an attempt to get away, but he recovered before she could get very far, and grabbed hold of one of her ankles, dragging her toward him again.

"Why dost thou fight it?" he questioned, and though Daisuke could not clearly see his face he could hear a bit of teasing triumph in the man's voice. Despite her struggling, the man reached out and grabbed her by the collar, pulling her closer to him. He then stretched reached around her with his other arm and pulled her into an embrace, trying to kiss her. She leaned backward, trying with all her might to avoid him, and his lips succeeded in connecting only with the side of her cheek.

Throughout this entire battle, Daisuke slowly moved into the room, so that the details of the fight became gradually more clear to him. Soon enough, he was standing only a few steps away from the bed, and could quite easily make out the features of the man. He was neither particularly young nor old, his grizzled face suggesting an age greater than his years. His dark hair was rumpled and his beard had grown in thick in spots and faintly in others. Even here, he could see that his eyes were flashing with anger and irrationality.

The man was a stranger to him, completely unrecognizable. The woman, however, was eerily familiar.

Once more, I have stolen the title of this chapter from a song (which I happen to be listening to right now). This time the song is Bling (Confession of a King) by The Killers. I'm sorry if I'm lately sounding like a radio advertisement. This is in no way meant to serve as an endorsement of this music, and (in case you didn't know this) I don't get any money from anyone for this.

The line in question goes "when I offer you survival/you say it's hard enough to live"…in case anyone was wondering.

That said, I'm pretty happy with the progress of this story so far, and I'm sorry the chapter updates have been sort of slow lately. As always, life interferes with this stuff. Believe it or not, I think I might actually know how this one ends….

Thanks for reading!