Tragic Sound (Venomitus)
I'm not heartless, but Archaea is a continent filled with tragedy. When something such as this does happen, I'm not sorrowful, just disappointed. I think Frost understands more than anyone else that a life can be taken just as quickly as it was created. That's not what troubles me.
Mr. Money lived his best life, and will be immortalized in legend for his feets. He saved lives and provided hope for a continent, whose residents would rather devour each other alive than starve to death. It is as the saying goes; he died as he lived.
Indeed he did, but while he died saving another pokemon with no consideration for himself, it was his friend that took his life. Possessed by Deoxys or not, Ember cannot be allowed to live for that. Those that kill the ones they love, love only themselves. Self-absorbed imbeciles like that deserve a fate worse than anything in this universe can give them.
"So have you changed your mind about killing Ember then," Emerald asks telepathically.
"Indeed," I say. "I'm going to end Ember and Deoxys in any way I can."
"Afterwards… subdue Frost," she says. "She is losing control. You and the marshadow are ghosts, but that skarmory will die if he doesn't avoid her."
Iode… He was an enemy when we last met, but Mr. Money entered battle with him, so something must've changed. That doesn't mean I trust him, but it seems we have a common enemy, so I'll let it go for now. For now, he, Frost, the marshadow, and I will try to kill Ember.
I'm still being held under Ember's claw, but I can see Deoxys' fleshy red and blue mass of a body pulsing over the skin where his heart should be. I can't reach it, but I can hit it with a power gem if I can release my hand.
I feel a sudden weightlessness as Ember is thrown of me and into the shallow water where the beach meets the ocean. When he lands, I see several giant black spikes that resemble thorns embedded in his side. They burn with a hostile black energy that eats away at Ember's metal hide, even as I watch.
For the short time I've known her, Frost's resting facial expression has been a faintly unhappy one. Whatever she's feeling is a far cry from that. She hovers menacingly above Ember, her disintegrated hand positioned to obliterate him if he moves. Black dust flows around her in an aura of hatred, but it's not Dark Matter's hatred, it's hers.
I can't begin to imagine what any living creature could do to make someone hate them that much. He killed Mr. Money, yes, but to my knowledge they only knew each other a day. Besides, this is Archaea. Pokemon die all the time. Even I don't hate Ember, but even though an executioner doesn't hold anything against the judged, he still must execute.
Still on his side, Ember looks up at Frost. He's still in shock about Mr. Money's death, and doesn't seem to know what's going on. The longer Frost stares down at him, the more her rage builds. With a flick of her hand, the black dust collects into a thorn bigger than three of Ember put together.
"Die, trash," she says as she pushes the black thorn toward him. In an instant, the thorn and Frost's aura dissipate as she's pulled by the throat and waist to the ground, then dragged through the mud and water by vines. She struggles against a serperior's massive weight as it coils around Frost's body.
She's just as surprised to see Branna as the rest of us are. The grass snake is clearly exhausted and dehydrated, but ignores that as she faces Frost with a stern expression. As soon as Frost recognizes her friend, she stops struggling. She looks up at Branna with watery eyes. As much as I know that she would like to say it's just the water and mud, I know that she's on the verge of crying.
"He's dead… Ember killed him."
"I know," Branna says solemnly. "But does a life for a life seem fair to you?"
"Yes…" she says, seemingly not confident in her own answer.
"Look at 'em. He's a mess, because he killed his friend. Killing someone takes the light from your soul and replaces it with nothing. You will only have regrets, and Frost, you don't need any more of those."
"Incorrect," I say, not wanting to listen to any more optimistic nonsense. "Sometimes, taking a life is necessary, and Ember deserves to die."
"And I suppose you, with all your cosmic power get to decide that, huh?" she mocks. "If you think someone deserves to die based on your own opinion, you're no better than the legendaries. The only thing us mortals can do is not be like them."
"Mortals," I say. "Are very different then immortals, but the path I've chosen is very different from either of them. I'm searching for the ones who can admit that death is the only punishment for imbeciles and egoists."
"So you don't want friends, just people who think like you?" Branna asks.
"That's not…"
For some reason, this feels the same as talking to Sepullen. Every word she says cuts through me like Ember's Spacial Rend. Branna has walked off all paths made for her. She defies the legendaries by remaining optimistic in this dreary, desolate world, and she defies this world's inhabitants by not letting them bring her down to their level.
Yet again, I feel like another pokemon is better than me. She's living how I want to, but it's almost as if I haven't quite made my own path. Without even saying it, I feel like she's trying to remind me of who's shadow I live in. Every thought and action I have is compared to the one I simultaneously love and hate.
The Relic Master, despite our contrasting natures, are the same. I've realized, just at this moment, that he's rubbed off on me more than I would like to admit. Those that know me, know that I've always liked free thinkers, and that their ideals can be different without clashing. I can't go on with this extreme view of the world, but I need guidance until I can make my own path.
"You said friends," I say. "But the truth is… friends slip through my claws easier then the sand. If Sepullen is the best I can do, then I can't really make friends."
"That's… That's not true," Frost says. "I only wanted you to fight by my side because I wanted a friend."
That… can't be true, can it? I haven't had real friends for as long as I can remember. Besides Sepullen, I remember the brief period where I was travelling with Lyle, but he died before I really came to know him. Come to think of it, I don't remember how to have a proper friend. With Sepullen being so critical of me all these years, I don't really know how to be around a pokemon that doesn't have unreachable expectations.
Emerald is different. Romantic love is different than friendship. I know that I can look to Emerald for anything and not be judged, but I don't know if I could possibly feel that way about anyone else.
"Venomitus!"
His painful psychic voice is so familiar to me that at first I mistake it for my own thought. I turn to see Sepullen and a milotic near the water. Sepullen's vessel is cracked in numerous places, but the cracks look like they've been patched with mud and dirt. His eyes only glow faintly. The Psychic Piece in my treasure bag must be the only thing powering him right now.
"You heard us just now," I say to him.
"Correct," he says. "But in it's nonsense, superstition would say that fate brought us to the same conclusion today. I move toward a new path to perfection, and you are on a path to something unknown. I desire to know what that is, but I will no longer be the one to guide you."
This is very uncharacteristic of Sepullen. For as long as I've known him, he has judged my every action, thought, and ideal. For him to relinquish control of anything is…
"I will only be an observer in your life, nothing more. Despite your life long wish, I still find myself unable to be your friend, but only because I cannot remember how to be. For now, Miss Branna has a certain wisdom in her words. I would listen to them."
"Touching," Iode says, appearing between us in a blue spark of light. "But while all of you were having your little heart-to-heart, I've taken care of a little something."
Beneath his claws is a squirming red and blue spider-like creature. It's four limbs writhe and tear away at Iode, but futilely. I look back at Ember, who has returned to his original form and is sleeping soundly. Despite being hellbent on killing him earlier, I can't help but feel remorse. Even in his sleep, tears run down his face and into the water. I've heard that dragon tears can be used for a variety of magical rituals and potions, but I'm not going to collect his. I'm not heartless.
"Iode…" Sepullen starts. "Ever fearless and bold. Do you understand what that thing beneath you is?"
The skarmory ruffles his feathers impatiently.
"Do I need to? Xenon had a lot of parasites laying around. I didn't have the time or the want to keep track of them."
"Then why aren't you killing it?" Sepullen asks. "If all you understand is that it possessed Ember, why prolong its useless existence when you could so easily crush it?"
"Xenon and I have researched all of you," Iode says. "Especially you, Relic Master Sepullen. I know that you research relics, but also magical and scientific machines. Seeing as our base is destroyed and I'm the only member of Team Gamma that's still alive, I'm looking for work."
"So this parasite is an offering to ingratiate yourself with me?"
"Yes," Iode says. "I always look to serve, not lead. Though, I only serve the few pokemon that deserve my respect."
Sepullen turns to the rest of us. Branna is still coiled around Frost, but the froslass seems to have embraced it for what it is. I suppose that coiling another pokemon for a snake is like giving them a hug, and I can't help but feel jealous of Frost for that. Not really, but I wouldn't mind it if Emerald came down from the sky now that the battle is over.
"To all pokemon remaining!" Sepullen calls out with overwhelming psychic energy. "Come with me to Fort Ruin if you wish to participate in my exploration guild. To you Iode, welcome to Team Ruin."
He turns to Branna and says, "You travelled to this continent to look for your missing child and his team. You already know that they went missing while exploring with my team, so I will do everything in my power to help you in your search."
"You'd better, Relic Master Sepullen," she says. "Team Ruin and your guild mean nothing to me, I'm just here to get them and go home."
Sepullen looks at her, but doesn't say anything back. Instead he looks up at Emerald, who's still meditating high above what remains of Isla Delirium. The claydol's eyes are still glowing, but he isn't using any magic or communicating. I wonder if he's talking to Emerald.
"Yes," Emerald says. "I can do that."
She opens her eyes, which glow a deep shade of purple and black. In an instant the water, the craigs, and everything else is gone. We've been teleported halfway across the continent by the most powerful pokemon in Archaea. With so many new faces, the next months will be interesting.
Southern Twisted Craigs
When Ember first transformed, the energy released deatomized everything within its vicinity, and yet Koncordia finds herself regenerating like a ghost would. Piece by piece, her body comes back together in a cloud of black dust and smoke.
"Oh hell," she says. "Rose is dead, why can't I be? If only I could get back at Sepullen. He dragged us into that mess in the first place."
With her curse preventing her from dying, she sits unmoving in the craigs for days. She trains herself to resist her hunger by focusing on something else; her festering hatred for Sepullen. The longer she sits, the longer it builds. In her mind, Rose wouldn't have died if Sepullen hadn't let her get taken.
A few weeks later, after having withstood the blistering sun and the watchful eyes of the desert skarmory, she finally blinks. In front of her is a parasect that's not much smaller than she is. It looks up at her with curious white eyes.
"What is that thing that you are doing?" it asks.
"Planning my bloody revenge."
"Hmm, well. Perhaps we could help you with that thing, that revenge."
"How?"
"Oh, we should show this thing to her, Barium. For she does not have the living sickness. Look deep, and look well. There are these wondrous things, the secrets of the heavens, and now, they are yours."
End of Arc 1
