Their quarry had led them on a merry chase through these harsh lands. Were they not such reckless brigands, he may have found some respect for the audacity of the thieves. He was out of practice, certainly, but it was no mean feat to evade him for so long. They were crafty woodsmen. His own rangers would find this a daunting challenge.
"My Champion!" One of the Fuschian scouts, a young man by the name of Saizo, saluted, joined by his hissing Ekans. He smiled at the lad and allowed him to speak. "We have discovered tracks in the forest to the east! The thieves number four. They are accompanied by a Nidorino, Primeape, several Weepinbell, and a Vileplume."
He nodded at the news, and rose to his feet. Quite the formidable group. His stiff old bones creaked as he abandoned his comfortable pad. Dear Mamoru rose as well, unhindered by his years in the slightest. They had only strengthened his brother. "Excellent work," his smile did not leave his face. "But I am no longer your Champion, friend. That honor belongs to Champion Kaori."
Chastened, the youth pounded a fist to his chest and bent his head. "Honored be her name."
"Honored be her name," Taimu repeated. Mamoru did not dip his head, yet he had not expected otherwise. Even Chinatsu barely held to decorum these days. "Prepare your brothers."
The boy's eyes betrayed his confusion. "My Champ - my Lord," he corrected himself hastily. Taimu smiled. "Night will fall soon."
"We shall pursue them under night's cover!" He declared. Saizo's smooth face paled, and Taimu laid a hand on his shoulder. "You have nothing to fear, friend. I am with you. Fire will guide our way."
Young Saizo's eyes locked upon the flowing tails of dear Chinatsu, her luxurious fur tinted gold with age. It suited her, Taimu thought, though not as much as the burning Feather upon her spine. The boy hastily looked away and scurried away to do as he'd been commanded.
"Don't tease the boy," he chided. Chinatsu trotted to his side and regarded the scouts as they packed the camp up. They traveled light, as was Fuschia's custom. When he had first traveled these inhospitable lands as a bitter youth without home or power, he had learnt these lessons well. Despite the ache in his bones and the stiffness in his limbs, Taimu found that he appreciated the reminder. Comfort could be a dreadful trap.
Chinatsu's ruby eyes glinted. Her nine golden tails wrapped around Taimu's legs, and one of them flicked upward to rest in his hand. He absentmindedly stroked the tail as he watched the men bring down the tents and roll their belongings into light packs woven from cloth and Arbok hide.
These men are untested, my Champion. I am only doing my duty.
"I am no longer Champion, dear Chinatsu," Taimu's light wrinkles tightened as he caressed her ears. She leaned into his touch, though her red gaze never left the Fuschians. They hastened their work. "My mantle has passed onto capable shoulders."
His long-trusted advisor tossed her pale head. The Golden Feather flickered on the back of her neck, heatless tongues of flame brushing his hand.
You are the only Champion we shall ever know. It could have remained yours. Not even a fool would challenge you. The stories of those who tried have spread across all of Indigo.
"I wonder who spread those tales?" Taimu teased, well-aware she had conspired with Maki to spread the stories of each ill-fated challenger far and wide. Chinatsu did not grace him with a reply, though the golden flames sparked against him with a new gnawing heat. They would never harm him, however. His beloved companion would never allow it.
He watched the scouts work, all young men and women save for their leader Izumo, a distant relation to the Fuschia Lord Iga. Izumo held great promise, and Iga had confided in him many times over the years that he thought the man would make a fine Fuschian Champion one day. No doubt old Iga hoped Izumo would gain some acclaim by acting as Taimu's guide in their native lands.
They were Indigo. They would build a better future, a future without the suffering Taimu and countless other souls had known. In another world, these youths would cut him down in a heartbeat for trespassing on their ancestral lands. Fuschia had fought fiercely for their wild peninsula, and they did not suffer outsiders.
Yet here they were.
Taimu breathed the fresh mountain air, so similar to his home in Indigo Plateau. Former home. He would not return. Forty summers had passed since that fateful day he struck down Drake Ryoto at the base of Mt. Silver and joined Johto and Kanto as one. Forty summers since mighty Shinobu had met his end at the claws and fangs of the Drake's partner…
His breath hitched. Chinatsu and dear Mamoru waited patiently for him to return. The sights and sounds and that too-familiar sharp tang of blood and bile faded away, and Taimu thanked Chinatsu for her support.
If only he had appreciated his strength as a young man. It had fallen away so quickly as the seasons passed relentlessly by. His limbs still held firm. His breath did not waver. He was no decrepit old man just yet.
For all his opponents had called him an idealistic dreamer blind to the world - a slur that Drake Ryoto had repeated with great admiration in that fateful night they spent as friends at the base of Mt. Silver - Taimu was no fool. The years had been kind to him, kinder than he had deserved. His dream made a reality, countless nights of laughter and cheer shared with the ones dear to him, and a newfound family that walked with him wherever he might go.
Yet time waits for no man.
"All good things must come to an end, sister," he smiled. Chinatsu rested easily beneath his hand. Mamoru came to stand by his side, and Taimu relished his steady presence. If only Shinobu were here… "I am not the young man I once was. Not all of us live forever."
Chinatsu did not look at him, and he sighed as a chill autumn breeze pierced his robes. The cold had scarcely stung him before a flush of warmth filled him. He chuckled. "How did we ever survive without you?"
You nearly didn't.
Those harsh times were the brightest spots in his memory, even as his thoughts grew harder and harder to grasp in the last few years. Taimu sombered. Mamoru grunted, a deep drum-beat that frightened the nearest few scouts. They were nearly done now.
"I will not be the old man clinging to power until my dying breath. I will not die rotting in my bed," he said softly. Mamoru shifted closer, easily four heads taller than Taimu now. Would he ever stop growing? What great heights would he reach in the coming years? "Champion Kaori is a good woman. Maki would be proud of her. She will shoulder my burden with pride."
Chinatsu's red glare pierced him. It was an all too familiar sensation. He'd even found comfort in it these days. Sometimes he laughed remembering the first time he'd caught dear Chinatsu's ruby gaze - he'd been a hopeless young man then, and he'd been certain the Ninetails had come to steal his soul away.
It is not too late. Withered, stubborn, idealistic, reckless- "You're enjoying this!" Taimu accused and Mamoru's earth-shaking rumble of laughter filled the grove - and slow as you might be, the Golden Flame will embrace you. It awaits Ai Taimu in the place our fateful meeting occurred. Your rule need not end. Come -
"No," Taimu said simply. Chinatsu pulled out from beneath his comforting hand and paced before him and Mamoru, who watched silently save his deep, steady breaths. "My time as Champion is over," he said quietly. "The Indigo League must learn to live on without Ai Taimu at its head. We have done what we can, Chinatsu. Let the world move forward."
Her tails splayed behind her as she trotted off into the wilderness without giving Taimu or Mamoru a second glance. The scouts gave her a wide berth as they finished their preparations, unwilling to come within ten feet of her golden tails. A wise decision.
"What do you think, brother?" He looked to Mamoru tiredly. This was an old argument, and one that Chinatsu never appreciated. And she called him stubborn. His brother simply grunted and gingerly rested a mighty claw against Taimu's back.
He couldn't help but laugh and rest against Mamoru's stone hide. Many regarded Mamoru as cold and harsh, Taimu's stalwart shadow, and they fell into Mamoru's trap. Only Taimu and his closest knew the warmth and kindness hidden deep within his mighty armor. Mamoru was a gentle soul and a loyal one. Taimu was proud to call him brother before all others.
"When our quest is done, I would like to return home. It's been so many years since we laid eyes on Indigo," Taimu whispered, voice frail and hopeful in one. When he shut his eyes, he saw Indigo as it was all those decades ago. What a foolish young man he was...
He had family, yet did not cherish it. He had love, yed did not share it. He had time, yet did not appreciate it. "We will find these thieves. We will walk this beautiful land and embrace our old friends. We will find our peace."
Mamoru's great nostrils flared. Hot air ruffled Taimu's silver hair, and he couldn't help but laugh. His friend rumbled happily, content in this time they would share. His brother never shared his thoughts in these stolen moments, yet Taimu knew Mamoru would follow wherever he would lead.
He did not deserve this loyalty.
"Come," As the Fuschians waited patiently for him, finally packed up, he pulled his hand off Mamoru's arm, though it pained them both to do so. Taimu never felt quite as content as he was with his beloved companions. He prayed they felt the same way, though deep inside he knew it was as certain as the sun rising. "We have a long way to go, brother."
Taimu sighed and forced his weariness away to stride by his honor guard. He would not be the one to slow them down, not when he had given the command. These men rightly feared the night's terrors, and Taimu would not give them any reason to waver.
Mamoru effortlessly stepped ahead of Taimu as the scouts fanned out behind him, the men and women nearly silent with their partners as they slipped through the foliage. They shouldn't have bothered - Mamoru simply crushed everything before him. Trees, trunks, brush...it was all flattened and smashed away. His friend had no fear. This was a simple warning to the beasts of the forest. They would not be simple prey.
"One last hunt…" Taimu whispered. Mamoru glanced back to him, eyes bright and warm. "Then we will find our peace."
He longed to call out to Chinatsu - she had trotted slightly ahead, unwilling to stray far but too irritated to stand at his side. Taimu held his tongue. She would come around, he knew it. One such as Chinatsu could not understand death, not truly, but they had time. Albeit precious little…
As the shadows fell, Chinatsu was their sole guiding light.
The night, and hunt, would be long.
Taimu's lips curled into a tired smile.
One last time.
A/N: Here it is, just something I wrote up real quick! It's been forever since we've seen Champion Taimu in action (nearly six years, in fact) and I've wanted to continue his story for ages. There's enough context clues to pick up what's going on in this short little chapter, but more will be explained in the next installment! I plan to get it out pretty quickly after Traveler Chapter 52 is released!
For those of you who don't know, I've created a Discord server for Traveler! We currently have over a hundred people and it's been a blast! If you're interested in joining, please shoot me a PM and I'll send you a link!
Additionally, I have FINALLY finished my promise of creating a world map for Traveler. It's a little rough, but you can see it over on my P a - it's public and available for everyone to see, no donation required!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think!