She'd paid dearly upon Myotismon's return, just as he'd promised. Old wounds pulled open, her white fur now littered with purple scars, the worst from his Crimson Lightning at the backs of her paws where she'd dared tried to defend herself now and before. The heaviest marks she bared now, or rather, no longer, her claws. Removed one by one after she's been stupid enough to fight back. She hadn't been able to walk for weeks, her ego had been wounded for longer, and to nurse herself, she'd fashioned the fur from Saberleomon into gloves to hide what was missing at her front paws.
The look on Myotismon's face when she'd slashed at his cheek sat in her mind though, bringing a smirk to her lips as she remembered how he'd pressed his fingers to the three welts her claws had made on him, feeling blood and data fizzing against his skin. It had taken some time to heal too, much to her surprise. Maybe he did have a weakness?
She pondered it now, as she sat in the wagon pulled by a harnessed Unimon, rumbling over rough stone and dirt paths into the rundown little town she was to be stationed at for the next week.
Myotismon had sent her on several recruitment missions recently, and she'd spent more time out of the castle than in it. No longer just a soldier herself, she really was an officer now, just how she'd wanted. She had mons at her disposal, to do her bidding, and they would suffer the consequences of defying her. She'd grown tough, and lonely, and distanced from her own pain, not minding nor caring what she inflicted on others.
Gazimon marched behind the wagon, a few of their ears twitching and tails flicking as they approached the town. It was their home, where they'd hatched, where they'd grown up, where they'd had families and friends.
What had Gatomon had when she was growing up? Myotismon. Her saviour. Her jailer. Her torturer.
These Gazimon longed to be home, and all Gatomon wanted to do was get as far away from her home as possible.
She hated them for it.
'Anyone clocking in late tomorrow morning will be pulling the wagon themselves from now on, understood?' she snapped as they began to unload the supplies into the hall they were to be garrisoned in. 'Anyone who thinks this is some sort of vacation will be confined to barracks and won't see daylight our entire stay.'
She didn't know how many Gazimon she'd be able to recruit from this backwater town, they were often reluctant from what she'd heard, but bringing a few bait Gazimon to help her cause was the way to go, according to SkullMeramon.
Gatomon set herself up in the hall, planning her way around the town to start her recruitment. She planned to follow the usual paths, taverns, strays in the streets (not that they even usually passed basic training). She had a quota to fill, and she was prepared to drag some reluctant Gazimon by their ears and tails if it meant avoiding punishment for not meeting that quota.
'I've got three waiting to sign up outside already,' a Gazimon announced to Gatomon as she unloaded the last of the crates from the wagon into the hall.
She frowned, an ear twitching with glee. Maybe this was going to be easier than she expected.
'Only four dozen more to go then. Send them in.'
She clambered up onto the rickety table at the head of the hall, arms folded over her chest, eyes narrowed, ears flattened against her head and tail flicking behind her. She watched with pursed lips as the Gazimon led the others in. One of the new ones had a scar crossing his chest.
'We're here to join Myotismon's army, ma'am,' one of the unscarred ones told her.
The soldier that had brought them in grimaced on behalf of his friend, as Gatomon's lips curled into a snarl.
'Firstly, you refer to him as "Master", "Lord Myotismon" or "Your Evilness". Second, it's sir, all senior officers are sir.'
'Yessir,' the three of them chorused.
'Quick learners,' Gatomon observed. 'We set off at sunrise in three days time. If you're late or fail to show, I'll make sure your deaths are slow and painful. You are in Lord Myotismon's service for life, there is no returning to your friends, no running away. The only way you leave his army is by death, and even then, your data might get recycled into a Bakemon. Understand?'
'Yessir,' they repeated, nodding their heads.
'Good. I'll meet you here tomorrow morning after breakfast for your first lot of training. Don't be late.'
They left, and the day passed slowly, Gazimon passing in and out of the hall to sign their lives away. By the end of the day, just before sundown, a dozen mons had already willingly enlisted.
'If it keeps going like this, we might even be able to move out tomorrow evening,' Gatomon sighed as she stretched herself out, leaning back against the table.
'We could bum around for the last day?' the Gazimon stationed in the hall with her suggested.
'Don't push it. My good mood doesn't extend that far,' she warned, hiding her like for his suggestion.
'Sorry, sir.'
She chewed at her lip, looking around the drab hall. The Gazimon certainly weren't fans of colour or decoration, not that Gatomon was used to either. It took her a moment to settle on what she wanted to do, and when she did, she grabbed a small pack from the pile of stuff from the cart and loaded it onto her back.
'I'm going to go for a walk. If anyone comes in the meantime, tell them to wait here.'
'Yessir,' the Gazimon nodded.
She stretched again and lazily walked from the hall, stepping out into the slowly fading sunlight of the day. It felt good against her fur, even if the ground underfoot was sandy and stuck in her toes.
A warm breeze flickered across her face, ruffling the tips of her ears. She shut her eyes, breathing in deeply, the smell of heated sand filling her nostrils, and the sound of laughter bringing her back to the world around her. She frowned, following the noise, looking to a group of three Gazimon on metal boards mounted atop wheels. They were chattering, a few choice words making Gatomon's ears prick up.
Stranger. Dead.
As the Gazimon left, she followed their tracks from the wheels they rode across the town, three streets down until she found the stranger they spoke of.
She approached them slowly, a cloaked body on the ground, not too much taller than she if he were standing. They were unmoving, but not dead. Gatomon knew that if they were dead, they would have dissipated into data by now.
She looked around before stepping closer, placing her feet carefully on the ground, eyes narrowed.
She tried to suppress her surprise when the stranger lifted their head, hat rim tilting back to reveal a blue mottled face, green eyes, straw-like hair in both texture and colour, the mass of which fell out of their collar and to one side from the weight of the ribbon tying it back.
Gatomon looked around quickly, glad to see a pump a few steps away. She hurried to it, finding a small bowl in her pack, washing it out and filling it with water before returning to the figure.
'Here, drink this,' she told them, offering the water.
They took it, lowering their collar and gulping down half the contents before collapsing to the ground again.
'Looks like he passed out.'
Gatomon kicked the bowl away gently with her foot, chewing at the inside of her lip as she decided what to do.
Could she just walk away? From this battered, broken thing. Leave them alone to fend for themself.
At least she could make sure he didn't just die out here in the street.
'Hey you,' she yelled at a passing group of Gazimon.
They looked to her, frowning.
'Wanna earn some Digi dollars?'
'Sure,' one of them replied.
'Help me carry him out of town, then take yourselves to the hall to collect your reward.'
They obliged, the four of them making easy work of hauling the lifeless Digimon away from the body of the town and into the woods outside the boundaries.
Gatomon quickly got a fire together, the sun gone from the sky now and darkness falling across the land. She sat with her legs stretched out in front of her on the ground and stared at the stranger for a long moment.
He didn't move, and Gatomon watched his chest intently to make sure he was still breathing. When he gave a sigh, the frown on her face relaxed and she let her stomach muscles unclench.
Why couldn't she just leave him now? He would be fine here by the fire, she could walk away and get back to her duties.
Yet, she stayed still on the floor, watching the stranger, observing him, his ragged clothes, his skinny frame almost smothered by the clothing that seemed to be several sizes too big for him. His shoe soles were strangely intact, he'd not done much walking, especially not in the sand that covered the entire town Gatomon had found him in. How was that possible?
She frowned and the stranger stirred again, letting out a groan and rolling to his side, one gloved hand feeling around for his sun topped staff that was laid next to him. His hand found it and he rolled flat again, finally opening his eyes and blinking in the firelight.
'You're awake,' Gatomon announced, mostly to stop him from startling if he didn't immediately realise she was there.
He propped himself up on his elbows, hat brim tilting backwards as he lifted his chin to look at Gatomon, a confused frown evident on his half covered face.
'Did you save me?' he asked.
Strange question, Gatomon thought. Why not "where am I?" or "who are you?"
'I didn't do that much,' she replied. 'I just couldn't leave you lying there.'
'Well, thanks, I guess I'll be going now,' he said almost sheepishly.
He was embarrassed to appear hurt. She knew the tone of his voice well, every time Phantomon had wounded her and her ego during training she'd used the same voice when he'd questioned her and jutted her chin up with the blunt end of his scythe.
He used his staff as a crutch to lift himself to his feet, groaning again, brow furrowing painfully under his hat brim.
Gatomon drew her knees up to her chest, a pang of sympathy jabbing her stomach as she watched him struggle.
'Don't be silly, you're not strong enough to go,' she told him.
'I know you helped me but I don't have anything for you,' the stranger told her.
She looked up at him now, one knee dropping. Her tail flicked, and she tried to keep her face straight as he looked back at her.
'I don't want anything,' she assured him. 'But you must be very lonely to say that.'
The stranger gripped his staff with both hands, knees shaking, the moon charms at the zips above his hips quivering, betraying the steely look he tried to keep on his face. The leather of his gloves cracked across his knuckles and tightened against the backs of his hands inside, picking out the outline of each knuckle.
'What do you mean?'
He sounded fearful. Her own confusion at her actions were marring her own tone and scaring the stranger.
Gatomon quickly thought of an answer as she got to her feet, paws dropped to her sides.
'When you've been alone for a long time, your heart becomes very hard. It happens to everyone, even me.'
She stared down at her paw, curling and uncurling her makeshift claws.
The stranger's eyes were on her, a deep frown settled on his face.
'I've been alone for so long, I don't think I can even feel loneliness anymore,' he said after a long silence.
Gatomon looked to him again, a soft smile crossing her lips.
'Gatomon,' she said, holding a paw out to him.
'Uh,' the stranger hesitated, hands tightening around his staff again. 'Wizard...mon,' he replied finally, shaking her paw loosely.
His knees faltered and he dropped down onto one.
'Hey! Are you ok?' Gatomon asked, stepping back.
'I'm taking some time to heal,' Wizardmon replied quietly. 'Ouch,' he said, wrapping an arm over his midriff, a loud rumbling coming from him.
'You're hungry?' Gatomon observed.
'I think so.'
'Wait here, I'll go get food,' Gatomon told him, turning on her heels and going into the woods.
She found edible plants, and filled a large water canteen from a small stream a few minutes walk away before heading back. Wizardmon had settled back on the ground, staff laid down next to him.
'They'll taste like shit even after I boil the crap out of them, but they'll keep us full for a long while,' Gatomon explained as she went about preparing the plants, stripping off leaves and trimming tops and roots.
'Taste?' Wizardmon asked.
'Yeh, like, in your mouth?'
'Mouth?'
Gatomon turned to frown at him, hands going slack.
She watched as Wizardmon lifted a hand to his face, pulling his collar down again slightly and running a finger over the stitching at his mouth. He looked to her, suddenly looking embarrassed and tugging his collar back up.
'I,' Gatomon began, averting her eyes, unable to find any more words.
She focussed on making food, adjusting the fire so she could cook over it, not looking at Wizardmon the entire time. When it was ready, she found bowls from her pack and filled them with the food.
'Drink the broth too, it'll keep you hydrated,' Gatomon told WIzardmon as she handed one bowl over to him.
'Thank you,' he said as he took it, sitting back on the floor.
Gatomon sat a few feet away from him, not the opposite side of the fire, but still with a comfortable distance between them.
She could never get used to the earthy taste of the plants, and the broth had a tang to it that didn't leave her mouth even after she'd finished and taken a few deep gulps of nothing.
She let out a groan as she put her bowl on the ground and stretched out.
Her eyes drifted to Wizardmon as he copied her, and she noticed the larger pieces of food were still left in the bowl.
'I'll… cut it into smaller pieces next time,' she told him.
'No, it's fine, I just think my body needs to get used to eating again.'
She knew the feeling. After being starved as punishment countless times, she understood it took a while to be able to eat again, even when she'd been allowed to.
An awkward silence settled over the pair, Gatomon staring into the flames of the fire until she heard Wizardmon clear his throat.
'What are you doing in these parts?' he asked.
He wasn't really interested, she could tell from his tone, but small talk was better than nothing.
'A mission,' she replied.
'Oh.'
'I mean, uh, well,' she stumbled, finding a burning coming to her cheeks. 'I'm recruiting Digimon for my master's army.'
'Master?' he asked, sounding more interested now.
'Lord Myotismon, dark ruler of the continent of Server.'
'I've not heard of him.'
She looked at him incredulously.
'I'm not from around here,' Wizardmon continued quickly, looking to the ground when he caught Gatomon's stare.
'I guessed.'
'Neither are you?'
His tone rose at the end of his statement and she took it as a question, shaking her head in response.
'No, I'm far from Lord Myotismon's domain, but the Gazimon here are perfect for his army so it's worth the travel.'
'You don't look like you fit in an army.'
'I'm an officer.'
'What's that?' Wizardmon asked.
'What are you? Newly hatched? It means I'm a higher rank than nearly everyone else.'
'How does one join this army?'
'Who's asking?' Gatomon asked suspiciously.
'Me.'
'You definitely don't look like you fit in an army,' Gatomon told him bluntly.
The visible skin around his nose crinkled as he grimaced beneath his collar.
'Then we can be two out of place misfits together,' he said finally.
'No, we can't. I'm not letting you do that to yourself,' Gatomon said, her lips pursed.
'Who are you to make that decision for me? I have nothing else going on in my life right now. And at least then I can be around to pay you back.'
'Pay me back? Pay me back for what?'
She stared at him, a deep frown sat on her face.
'Saving me.'
'I told you, I didn't save you.'
'Still, I don't have any other life plans.'
She stared at him, unable to argue further, words failing her.
'What about what you were doing before today?' she asked a few beats later.
'Before? I wasn't really doing anything. Just travelling, I guess. What about you? What were you doing before you joined the army?'
Her breath hitched.
'I don't remember,' she whispered.
Something of a look of suspicion flickered across Wizardmon's face for a brief moment and Gatomon suddenly felt small.
'I'm going to go wash these,' she announced, grabbing the bowls from the floor and turning on her heels before Wizardmon could question her further.
She went back to the river, staring into the water for a long time before doing as she said.
She wasn't exactly lying. Her memory was foggy. And it was so long ago, almost a lifetime. Besides, did it matter what she'd been doing before Myotismon found her? There was no going back to it now. She belonged to Myotismon.
The shuffling of leaves behind her made her freeze, putting her paws up to defend herself as she dropped the bowls and turned to the intruder.
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,' Wizardmon insisted quickly. 'I just wanted to apologise.'
Gatomon let out a huff and fished the bowls out the water, shaking them off.
'You shouldn't leave the fire unattended,' she said, back still turned.
'Oh, of course.'
He took her hint and left.
Gatomon's stomach was twisted in knots and she let out a sigh, kicking at the ground before turning and heading back to the fire, finding Wizardmon sat, one leg crooked and his staff head being tapped against the ground. Upon her approach, he got to his feet, hands clutching at his staff again for support.
'I don't remember what I did before,' she stated, staring down at a paw.
'I believe you,' Wizardmon said with a nod.
'My whole life I kept waiting and searching but… I never find her.'
Her vision blurred as she stared up at him, memories of her younger self hazily coming back to her.
'Find her. Who are you waiting and searching for?' Wizardmon asked.
A feeling of despair came over her, hot years suddenly prickling the backs of her eyes.
'I don't remember, it was too long ago,' she replied after swallowing back a sob. 'All I know is I'm waiting for someone.'
She turned to the fire to hide the tears that filled her eyes.
'Your master?'
She shook her head.
'I don't think it was Myotismon I was meant to find. But he found me. And if he knew I was out here talking to you instead of getting on with my mission, he'd tear my tail off.'
She quickly rubbed at her eyes.
'Damn smoke,' she muttered in case Wizardmon noticed.
'Oh, yes, your mission. I still insist on joining you.'
'And my answer is still no.'
'Why not?'
'I don't know anything about you,' Gatomon snapped, annoyed by his persistence.
'Does it matter?'
She glared at him, jaw tight.
'Can you fight?' she asked.
'I've never really had to,' he said with a shrug.
Gatomon blinked.
'Can you cook? I suppose you could be assigned to kitchen duties.'
'I don't really eat.'
'Well,' Gatomon sighed. 'At least you'll be cheap to keep then.'
'So you'll take me?' Wizardmon asked, knee straightening a little.
'You're not going to let me say no, are you?'
He shook his head.
'Then… I guess,' she said with a roll of her eyes. 'You'll have to join training tomorrow at dawn like everyone else. If you make it through that, I'll let you sign up.'
'Do you put all your troops through so much scrutiny?' Wizardmon asked.
'Not my troops. And what's with all the questions? Let me give you some advice, don't ask questions. Get used to doing as you're told without hesitation. You'll get far by following orders.'
'Yessir.'
He bowed his head to her and she bared her teeth at him.
'Like heck am I having you training under me though. I can already tell you're going to be trouble and I'm not getting punished because of you.'
'I promise I'll bring you no trouble.'
'Why don't I believe that?'