? (Venomitus)
Perhaps I misspoke. Maybe everyone was supposed to die, and I only had the options of going with my beloved, or coming here to watch everyone die. What if, I dare say, there is no walking off the path of fate. Some say that fate will always happen, but there are many ways to get there. So, I suppose there is no point in making your own path if the end result is the same. I've denied it many times, but maybe Sepullen was right.
"Venomitus, from birth a mortal pokemon has the potential to become anything it dreams. It's a false luxury that they have more freedom then immortals, who have a certain duty to perpetuate the universe as they see fit. Tell me, what does freedom mean, when all roads lead to death?"
I'm still here, but I don't feel any life around me. My body is piecing itself back together, one molecule at a time. All I remember is Ember waking up, then everything being ripped apart at a subatomic level. Frost should be regenerating, but I can't sense her either.
As I finish regenerating, I see my surroundings. It's noon, and I think I'm still on Isla Delirium, yet there's no machinery, metal, or any evidence there ever was a fortress here. The volume of the actual island has minimized, as I'm standing in a muddy puddle on a ground that's nearly at sea level.
"Oh Venomitus, you don't believe that do you?"
"Pardon?" I say as I turn around to greet a pokemon that I can neither sense, nor smell. To my surprise, it's a very familiar gardevoir. The sudden, shocking sight of her is so alluring, I almost forget to wait for a response. Her intimidating, but imposing posture is enough to make me want to be nearer to her.
"All roads don't lead to death," she says, smiling. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
"I believe you," I say. "But how?"
She sits down with her legs crossed, and motions for me to do the same. The ground is muddy and wet, but is surprisingly comfortable to sit on.
"You knew this once," Emerald says. "But I was born in hatred. You could say I was made from it. I have chosen to turn that hatred into passion, and passion into love for the things around me."
She stares off into the ocean. The look in her eyes is one of familiarity. Something about the water reminds her of something similar to home. I can tell she has been to many places, and seen more things than Sepullen or I could dream of, but she doesn't have regrets. I can't help but feel jealous of her for that.
"Life is transmutable, Venomitus. There is a way to turn it into anything you want, not just death. Even death means different things to different pokemon."
I suppose she's right. To some, death is a gift to deliver them from an unfortunate fate. To me, death is a tool to purge those who have lost their way. Those without aim or purpose deserve to die. Call it a mercy kill. However, I can't see the other side of Emerald's point. How can I turn my lifetime of regret into anything else? I know my life can't end in death, but what else can I have when I don't deserve any more than that.
"As a gardevoir," she says. "I can feel your emotions. You think I don't have regrets, but I have only learned to not let them eat away at my soul. You are my greatest love, and my greatest regret. Your death was not my fault, but I'm the only one that will take responsibility for it."
How do I deserve someone like her, either? In her immortality, she's learned how to be humble and generous. As far as I can tell, that doesn't happen very often. I don't care what role she thinks she played in the tragedy that befell me, I already forgive her for it.
"No," she says, averting her eyes to the ground. "You wouldn't forgive me if you knew the nature of your death, or the tragedy that was my fault."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
She takes a deep breath. Something is definitely troubling her, and yet she said just a moment ago that she doesn't let her regrets eat away at her. In her immortality, she's likely had time to deal with them. I wonder if that means that whatever's troubling her happened recently.
"Yes, Venomitus, very recently," she says quietly. "What happened just now was that Ember was granted an alternate form by his patron legendary, which would make him an Agent of Spirits. The agent of Palkia, no less."
"Interesting," I say. "But what does that have to do with you?"
"I…" she starts as she chokes on her own words. "The explosion from that transformation alone was enough to vaporize everything within eight miles of it. While there were mostly ghosts who can regenerate, there were living among them who… no longer are.
Throughout our travels, Sepullen and I have heard tales of the agents, but have mostly ignored them. Most stories tell of their power or how they became agents, but it's hard to give them any credence when there are more stories of Sepullen killing legendaries and agents alike. Of course, I wouldn't know if they're true or not. He leaves me at our home base very frequently to to 'run errands'.
I don't believe it's as simple as that though. If they were just errands, he wouldn't take his most powerful relics with him. He didn't on this little outing only because he didn't expect to face any powerful opponent's. I imagine that from now on, he's going to bring them everywhere. Speaking of my companion…
"My travelling partner, Sepullen, is immortal in terms of life span, but he is not indestructible. Can you feel him anywhere?"
"No…" she says solemnly. "I can feel no one in your recent memory. Rook, Sepullen, Mr. Money, Iode, those two sylveon… they are gone. I couldn't save them."
"...I see," I say, lowering my head. "And what of Frost? We left her and Branna in the craigs, and yet she was right next to me before the transformation. Come to think of it, where is Branna?"
"Frost… is fine," she says. "I put her in a dream world similar to the one you and I met in, but the one I made for her simulates death. Don't let that trouble you, I only gave her what she wants… for now. I will retrieve her when the time is right."
Emerald levitates her own body in the air, then moves herself over to the water. She lightly taps her feet against the water, but doesn't sink below the surface. Any child might fall for the illusion that she's walking on water, but I'm no child. She takes false steps forward and closes her eyes.
"I feel Branna somewhere close, but she is not the same as you left her. She has been corrupted by a memory."
"Strange" I say. " I thought that because we are made of good memories, we lack the ability to possess the living."
"Normally you would be correct," she says. "But the memory appears to be neither hers nor a good one. Hate is a wretched, but power thing. If it is not removed from her, she will lose everything that makes her who she is. From what I've gathered from Frost and your memory, she is very determined and full of love."
I don't know what memories she could have gotten from me about Branna. Her and I haven't interacted much since she joined us. From what I can tell, she's at least more of a decent pokemon then Sepullen, me, or any pokemon that lives in End Of… Ridge. Still, that certainly isn't enough information to go off of, is it?
"Be weary, Venomitus," Emerald warns abruptly. "A powerful energy draws near."
She's barely given a chance to finish her warning when an unknown assailant rockets toward her from above with blinding speed. With a quick movement of her wrist, she effortlessly blocks them with a faint purple barrier. Through the violent clashing of Emerald and his energy, I see that her opponent is Ember.
His appearance has changed drastically since I last saw him. He still resembles a salamence, but only faintly. His wings and body have changed to a pearly white, and his body is decorated with straight magenta markings like veins. Salamence, and dragons in general, have always been naturally muscular, but the armour plating built along his spine from head to tail makes him even more so. His bulky shoulders are marked at their center by a pale orange gem.
For the first time while being around her, I start to wonder just how powerful Emerald is. If Ember was powerful enough to destroy this much land and pokemon within a split second, how is Emerald able to defend herself from him so easily.
"'Love dies if there's no one left to love.' Is that what that old bastard said?" Ember asks. "Well I'm here keep Palkia's promise. Venomitus will die alone. In order to make that happen, I have to kill you, good stuff."
"Good stuff?" Emerald asks.
"Don't play dumb," he says. "You know Arceus probably created your entire species to be eye candy for the rest of us."
"Oh, Ember. Your naivete does nothing to insult me. It wasn't Arceus or any of the legendaries that created me. In fact, it was you. Well, you along with every other hateful pokemon on this planet."
He disengages her, but only for a split second. He brings one of his massive wings down on her as they harden into solid steel.
"Did you get a lobotomy recently, because it sounds like you're talking nonsense. Damn women."
"Do you remember," she starts. She doesn't even bother to block his attack with a barrier. Instead, she catches it in the palm of her hand, then uses his own momentum to slam him to the ground.
"It was twenty-six years ago that I rematerialized on this planet after thousands of restless, aimless years. Pokemon, especially the denizens of Archaea were so filled with thoughts of anger, fear, and war, that their hatred turned me into something that almost destroyed the world. I was eventually accepted by a kind, young soul, but I still am made from and harbor the power of Dark Matter."
In an instant, I remember a conversation Sepullen and I had a long time ago. When I first awoke as a ghost with no memory, it was him who found me and taught me the ins and outs of this continent. He told me that at the time, the world was recovering from a catastrophe that involved something called Dark Matter. Few knew exactly what it was, they just knew that it almost destroyed the world a year before.
Even Sepullen, for how composed and confident he is, would barely say anything about it. If what Emerald says is true, which I believe it to be, then I'm witnessing a battle between the Agent of Palkia and the incarnation of Dark Matter. I have no place in this fight, even as a bystander. Sepullen has tried frivolously to train me how to fight, but I'm more of an explorer than anything else.
While Ember's head is half buried in the dirt, Emerald levitates over him and rolls him over. Now facing up at her, he tries to discharge sacred fire from his maw. The flames barely leave his jaw, when a purple barrier is generated around his body from head to tail. All he succeeds in doing is scorching himself from the inside out.
"Do you see?" Emerald asks. "Understand that your hate alone grants me enough power to nullify your power, and your pride as a dragon."
"Alright," Ember says, catching his breath. "While the view from down here is nice, I'm tired of listening to your talk of urban legends and power that doesn't exist."
The orange gem on his left shoulder glows, he then makes a slashing motion at the air with his claw. The motion sends a white hot blade through the air that shatters the barrier and cuts through the air astonishing speed. Emerald barely manages to avoid it, and recoils in shock is it flies just in front of her face.
Taking her surprise as an opportunity, Ember moves his tail like a whip and slams it into her back. The attack sends her through the air toward me, but with more momentum then I can conceivably catch her with. Of course, I try anyway. I leap into the air and wrap my arms around her waist. With my back facing our trajectory, I'm smashed between Emerald and a limestone cliff face.
I toss her aside just in time for her to avoid Ember's steel wing. Unfortunately, his wing impacts me instead with enough force to decapitate me were I not a ghost. My vision is blocked by the black regeneration smoke coming from my neck and shoulders, but not enough to block me from seeing Ember's scowl of fury and annoyance.
"Damn it! I will get to you after I dye the ocean red with the wench's blood. Till then, wait your turn!"
Ghosts don't feel pain like the living do. Instead, it's a sensation comparable to the numbness of electric shock. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but something about the energy coming off of Ember is making it feel more like the dryness of burning, but without the pain. Even though the sharp edge of his wing is halted, it's still eating away at my wound faster than the wound can close.
"Venomitus, be careful," Emerald calls from behind Ember. "His body is cloaked in rending energy. While it's touching you, it nullifies any ability you have that stems from magical energy."
While that confirms that ghostly regeneration is magical, it serves no purpose as anything other than a useless bit of trivia. I don't know any spells, or even have the capacity to use any if I wanted to learn. I have a kind of sixth sense that allows me to detect and identify different types of energy, but I don't believe it has anything to do with magic.
As far as I'm concerned, I don't have anything to worry about. Ember can't kill me unless he manages to kill Emerald, which despite his power, I doubt is possible. One thing I've learned from Sepullen is that if you can't win conventionally, use whatever means you have at your disposal.
What means do I have? I can't outclass him, so my two options are to manipulate him, or use my surroundings. My only intention is to distract him long enough for Emerald to recover. If I don't do something soon, he's going to drop me and pursue her. If only I could see her…
"Fret not, Venomitus," Emerald says. She levitates in the air only a few feet behind Ember. It doesn't look like she's preparing to attack him, or is even prepared to counter him should he attack. "We are evenly matched, Ember and I, but I can turn the tides for us as easily as the tide itself will corrode what remains of Isla Delirium to dust."
Ember releases me and tries to whip around to grab Emerald with his claw, but she quickly teleports above him and grabs me by the arm. In an instant, I find myself about a mile above the ocean's surface. Below us, Ember looks around frantically.
"Wench!" he shouts. "Running away isn't going to help you! Not for long!"
Even though I can't die, I don't like that the only thing keeping me from plummeting toward him is my grip on Emerald's relatively small hands. She seems to know that, and lifts me up to her back. I wrap my arms around her neck, but try my best not to choke her.
"You could say that he and I are on par with one another, but as are rock, paper, and scissors," she explains. "For most dragons, their body must be kept above a certain temperature. If something cold so much as contacts their scales, any pain and injuries suffered will simultaneously amplify damage and slow their regeneration."
Without the specifics, it's elementary knowledge that dragons are particularly weak to ice. The way she's describing it, however, sounds more like she's trying to kill Ember than subdue him. This is conflicting for me. Team Gold sought to raise Archaea's moral standard when they came here from the continent to the south known as Poales.
Among them, Ember isn't the most morally upright, but Mr. Money sees good in him. I can only imagine what it would do to him if Ember died. I may not agree with it, but he has found his purpose as an Agent of Spirits. That alone means he doesn't deserve to die.
As I ponder this, I realize that something isn't sitting right with me. I love Emerald with all my heart, but I can't imagine why she wants to kill him. It doesn't seem like her somehow.
"Venomitus…" she starts. "Before you lost your memory, you would understand. You want to protect his and Team Gold's ideals, but consider this; he never stopped to consider ours. Death means the end for me, and I'm terrified of it, but the thought of you dying alone…"
For the first time since her and Ember engaged in combat, I feel a strange energy being released from her in pulses. The pulses synchronize perfectly with her slowly beating heart. The energy isn't quite the same as what's generated by dark-types. It's much darker, and made from raw unimpeded emotion. I'm not a gardevoir, so I can't detect what emotion it is by sense, but it doesn't take a genius to conclude that it's hate.
"Purpose alone doesn't give you right enough to live," she says. "Stepping on others in your life's path, hindering others from their potential, goal, and opportunity? Worse than death, those few deserve to be hated till the end of time as they plead to Arceus herself that they did nothing wrong."
With a flick of her wrist, she creates a spark of light in the air in front of us. At first, the light flows gently from a single point in the form of yellow bubbles. They increase in frequency in size until they begin to take the form of a pokemon. For some reason, that pokemon is humming a song, like an old sailor's tune.
"Emerald… Venomitus…" they say, like they just woke up from a restful sleep. "That was damn good."
"I know it's earlier than expected," Emerald says. "But I need your assistance with something."
The light dies down, revealing Frost. Even with the magnitude of knowledge I possess, I can't tell what's changed about her, but I know she has changed. It's the same sort of feeling that I get from being around Ember. In a way, it feels like she's been given Emerald's energy and power. I don't know how that's possible, unless…
"Frost," Emerald starts. "As the incarnation of Dark Matter, I can choose an agent like any legendary. With consent, I would like you to be mine, if only temporary."
Frost looks at me, then at her. She notices Ember below us, who is burning everything in sight with Sacred Fire. He hasn't noticed us, but I'm not certain for how long that will last. Frost is expressionless, but she appears to be thinking very deeply about something.
"Hell yeah," she says finally. "If I could spend the rest of my life in that dream and only leave when you needed something from me, that would be…"
Emerald looks at her with a soft smile. I remember Emerald saying that her dreamworld simulates death. Can I pokemon really want to die that badly? Being a pokemon that uses death as a punishment, I can't imagine why someone with as much potential as she has wants to die.
"As much as I would love to give you that," Emerald says. "I believe there are still pokemon in this world that need you. As long as you stay here to remind Branna that she isn't alone on her personal quest, you may rest when she does."
"That's fine," Frost responds. "Now let's defeat the so called 'Stat Eater', and get this trash over with."
The chapter got too long again, so I cut it in two. In the meantime, feel free to create characters and send them to me. Team Gold, Aurate, and Emerald belong to RodiumTech. Su, the milotic from the last chapter is RuGuard's, who I would also like to thank for story ideas and input. Rose the sylveon is EonTheZoarark's.