Night was falling by the time Renard returned, alone, to the clearing where he had been staying the past several weeks. Once Bee-Bee had regained consciousness, she had insisted on remaining in the Eterna Forest, and Renard had lacked the will to argue with her. The lonely trek back to familiar territory had felt like he was on auto-pilot, his thoughts tangling together like overgrown weeds.
The Ninetales stopped walking, and turned his ruby eyes to the enlarged semi-sphere hovering in the dark blue tapestry of the night sky. Now that he was away from the Eterna Forest, the weight of his emotions felt lighter, its burden reduced from his heart and mind. Yet as he stood in the clearing, his thoughts drifted to all the friends he had lost over the years, and sorrow grasped at his heart. The wounds were still too fresh.
Without conscious thought, Renard changed direction, and began walking again. He navigated through dense forest, his conscious mind barely registering the trees and branches that stood in his path and tugged at his fur as he passed. Finally, he stopped, blinking once or twice as if not yet aware of where his body had taken him.
Standing before the golden fox were two simple stone markers, with a wilted white flower laying across the ground before them. Etched into each of the stone markers was a single word, a simple designation that Astrid had carved with great care. The simplicity of the memorial was its greatest asset, for it conveyed so much to those who understood its purpose.
Renard sat down in front of the graves, his eyes focused upon the ground beneath his paws. If the stone markers had been living beings, it would have been the same as not meeting their eyes. It was rare for the Ninetales to feel so lowly and ashamed, but these circumstances were far from ordinary. In addition to the pre-existing sorrow, there was a tangible sense of failure clinging to his heart.
"Hey, Echo," Renard began, speaking barely above a whisper, and abandoning his usual formal phrasing. This was a private conversation between peers, and in his present mood, he saw no use in trussing up his words. It was normally a valuable exercise for him to speak precisely and without much emotion, but right now, he needed to express those emotions.
The Ninetales took a breath, and lifted his head a little, enough to see the base of the stone memorial that marked his Vaporeon friend's final resting place. An unpleasant lump formed in his throat, making it more difficult to swallow.
"I faced the one who slayed you and Rio," Renard continued, glancing momentarily towards the second grave marker, just as how he used to give the Jolteon an acknowledging glance whenever she was present during a conversation with Echo. He swallowed with difficulty, and when he spoke again, his voice trembled slightly. "But I couldn't avenge you. And I'm sorry..."
Renard closed his eyes to fight back the tears stinging his eyes. In his mind's eye, he knew exactly how Echo would respond to such a statement. The Vaporeon's face would line with concern, without a trace of disappointment in his eyes. Then, with just a few words, the water Eon would redirect the subject. The image was so vivid in Renard's mind that he choked back the mixture of a laugh and a sob.
"I mean...I know you wouldn't want me to claim vengeance for your sake," Renard said, his eyes glistening as he raised his head again. "But...how could I live with myself if I didn't try to make things right? I can't just sit back and do nothing. It won't fix things, I know that...and nothing can bring you back, but...I don't know..."
The Ninetales trailed off, wracking his brain to think of something else to say. He knew pursuit of vengeance was an empty goal, which is why he so adamantly urged Shadow not to go down that road. Echo would never approve of his sons carrying a grudge, nor would he have approved Renard to take on such a hateful burden. If Echo were still alive, he would voice that sentiment aloud, and talk Renard through his conflicting feelings, until the Ninetales could see the futility of the goal for himself.
It was so much easier to discourage someone from making a mistake than it was to avoid the mistake yourself. Easy to tell someone the danger of letting spiteful emotions take hold of your behavior and mindset, but a much trickier trap to squirm out of when you were the one inside it.
"I wish you were still here," Renard murmured, and choked back another partial laugh. "Your advice was a blessing to have. Everyone always used to say that I was the wise and experienced one...but it was you they went to for practical advice. I miss that the most..."
Shaking his head, Renard returned his attention to the grass beneath his paws. Echo had been the glue that had held the team together, in a way. He was approachable, and sympathetic to the needs of the group. When it came to advice, everyone had their preferences or specialties. Renard was viewed as being too solemn and difficult to read to approach over trivial matters, but best to talk to regarding social conflicts. A/C was excellent to consult regarding matters of the mind, and her interest in nursing made her good to approach when worried about possible injury or illness. Astrid was too nonchalant to talk to about subjects that required tactful handling, but she was valued for being very open and honest, even about awkward or taboo subjects.
Echo distinguished himself by being the almost ideal first person to talk to about any subject. His advice was practical and sincere, and while not an expert in any area, he was willing to support his peers in times of difficulty and struggle. He was by no means a perfect individual; Echo often wore his emotions on his sleeve, and was quite the force to be reckoned with if angered. He was loyal and kind, but the blunt edge his words often carried was not to be understated.
So what would Echo say to him now if he were still alive? Renard sighed, his tails fluttering unhappily. Just like before, the mental image came to mind almost immediately, and was even less favorable than the first. He could almost see the Vaporeon shaking his head at him.
'Your problem isn't that you need my help to get through this, Renard. Your problem is that you've been hiding from your demons for so long that you latch onto any excuse not to face them.'
The shadow of a smile flitted across Renard's muzzle. He could practically hear Echo's voice reverberating in his mind. Yes, that was almost exactly what the Vaporeon might say about this situation. He would offer his insight, but leave it up to Renard to follow through and discover a solution. It was never in Echo's nature to insist on one correct approach for everyone.
"The two of you have not been forgotten," Renard murmured, bowing his head respectfully. "I pray that you are at peace."
With this last statement, the Ninetales gracefully retreated from the grave site, and after emerging in the central area, he made his way up to the large oak tree standing atop the hill closest to the lake, only to change his mind and go towards the water instead.
It was difficult to truly get closure from words he fashioned himself and imagined Echo saying, but at the same time, he did believe Echo's advice would have been similar. Pursuing vengeance over Echo and Rio's deaths wouldn't bring them back, and channeling his anger and sorrow at their loss wouldn't repair the damage that had been done, nor fill the void in his heart. And yet...Renard knew Diablos' return had to be dealt with somehow. The malevolent ghost could not be allowed to operate unhindered, and Renard's earlier effort to confront the Spiritomb had backfired spectacularly, resulting, if anything, in Diablos becoming stronger.
The advice he had conjured for himself spoke of his habit of hiding from his demons, and Diablos had even remarked on something like that, back at the Chateau. He said that Renard was so afraid of his inner darkness that he was ultimately too passive, despite posing a legitimate threat.
The Ninetales gazed into the water, admiring its perfectly still, reflective surface that captured not only his image, but that of the half moon overhead. The luminous half-sphere was oddly soothing to see, hovering over the shoulders of his reflection. Renard breathed in slowly, purging his mind of tension and stress the best he could, and then exhaled just as deeply.
"Serena," he spoke aloud to the night sky. He waited in silence, the word drifting on the breeze until it faded from earshot entirely. His tails fluttered outwards, and a peculiar chill seemed to emanate from his body, yet he did not so much as twitch, and merely continued to gaze at the water.
A lone cloud passed before the moon, veiling its white glow just long enough to draw Renard's attention, and when he next gazed at the water, he saw in the reflection that he was no longer sitting alone.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. The second Pokemon in the water's reflection was not as distinctly solid as his own body. It was translucent, like an intangible spirit, but too distinct to be a mirage or hallucination. It was another Ninetales, but its appearance was very different from his own. In stark contrast to his vibrant, golden-white fur, the second Pokemon had a pale blue, flowing fur coat, with white adorning the tips of its tails, its legs, and the crests of fur on its head. Instead of Renard's glittering red eyes, the pale Ninetales had large, eerie blue eyes, similar to how he looked when using his ability to expose ethereal energy. The crests and tails of the second Ninetales were also styled to be curlier, giving a distinct, feminine appearance.
"You called?" the icy-blue Ninetales inquired pleasantly, its voice as feminine sounding as her appearance. Renard turned from the lake to see that the translucent being was not a trick of the water's reflection, but actually sitting beside him. Although appearing as a semi-transparent and otherwise intangible form, the night breeze ruffled her fur, and her tails fluttered behind her. "Did you actually want my company, or just visual inspiration to rub one out?"
Heat flared into Renard's cheeks, and he scowled defensively. "No, I- ...why would...? What possesses you to even ask that?"
Serena snickered, visibly delighting in the Fire-type's mortification. "Oh please, like anyone actually gives a damn. "
Renard rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. It was sometimes easy to forget that Serena had a much looser tongue than he did. Despite being a part of him, she could hardly have been more different. Whereas he spoke formally and respectfully, Serena's speech was mildly coarse, and her mannerisms more relaxed. It didn't help that she seemed to take pride in her ability to throw curve balls and knock him off-balance.
"In any case, I wanted to speak with you," Renard said. He stepped back a few paces, and sat down again, so that they were facing one another without being muzzle-to-muzzle. Serena may not have taken physical form, but it was still difficult to comfortably converse at such close proximity.
"I knew you would," the Ice-type fox replied airily, and her turquoise eyes glittered in the moonlight. "Ever since you learned Diablos had resurfaced, I've been waiting for you to come talk to me."
"If you expected it for so long, then why didn't you just contact me?" Renard wondered. It was not unusual for Serena to initiate contact with him over the years. Sometimes, she would approach him within his mindscape, most often when he was asleep or meditating, but just as frequently, she would appear as she did now, as a semi-transparent, ghostly image manifesting in the real world. As far as Renard could tell, no one else was able to perceive her when she took such form, although it was understandably awkward to try and interact with her if others were present.
Serena smirked slightly. "And said what? That I know you need my insight, and you just haven't realized it yet? What sort of vixen do you take me for?"
Renard didn't answer, but Serena probably didn't expect one. It was no secret that Serena's knowledge far surpassed his own. The conscious mind was too limited, and too restricted, to digest more than a fraction of the information available to the subconscious representatives. Knowing this to be the reality was part of why Renard routinely chose to interact with the snowy Ninetales, despite her representing his inner darkness.
"I don't know how to proceed from this situation, Serena," Renard said at last, averting his gaze and focusing upon the stillness of the water. "Just as I feared, Diablos is an opponent beyond-"
"Oh wow, you really ARE this dumb," Serena snickered, tilting her head to the side, as if the male Ninetales was an unusual painting hanging in an art gallery. "I thought you wanted to talk to me, not just whine about how things didn't go your way. "
Renard sighed. "I do want to talk to you," he intoned, forcing himself to look up at her again. "I just have a lot on my mind that I need to work through, and-"
"Getting bored," Serena warned impatiently, her tails fluttering in the wind. Renard sighed again, finding that his patience was wearing out significantly faster than normal.
"Fine...what do you want to discuss?" he asked.
"Hmm...mostly to point out that you're a total moron," Serena snickered. "I'm not finished!" she growled, when Renard stood up, on the verge of leaving the conversation entirely. There were times when Serena was a little too rude for his taste, and even after years of interacting with her, she remained a constant enigma. He understood her, about as well as anyone might understand their own flaws or motivations, but Serena was ever-shifting. She was insensitive one moment, but then emotional the next. Rude, but then compassionate. Distant, but then clingy. He sometimes wondered whether this constant shift was a side effect of her symbolic role within his heart.
"If you could spare me the accompanying ridicule, that would be appreciated," Renard dully replied. He remained standing, and waited for Serena's answer.
"Oh that's right, I forgot you can't read between the lines," Serena lamented, rolling her eyes. "I told you before, I expected you to come talk to me from the day you learned Diablos had resurfaced, something you, astonishingly, neglected to do."
"Did I unknowingly offend you by not coming to you sooner?" Renard wondered. Serena blinked, then stifled a snort of laughter with the tip of one of her tails, her body silently shaking with amusement. Renard fixed her with an unamused stare, waiting for her mirth to subside.
"Do you honestly think I'm easily offended?" Serena asked, once her giggles had ceased, but then flicked her paw through the air, as if batting a fly away. "Never mind, don't waste your breath answering that. It was just stupid of you not to talk to me."
Renard took a moment to debate the merits of asking Serena to elaborate on that line of thought, or whether it was better to press onwards. If the answer to a question could feasibly be deduced on his own, Serena tended to get snippy when questioned. Understandable, as she was a part of himself, and asking her to spell out mundane information he should already know was a waste of time.
After several seconds of deliberation, the male Ninetales sighed, resigning himself to pressing the subject. Serena was definitely dropping hints that she wanted to discuss how his failure to approach her earlier had been a moronic oversight, and although he had a feeling she had a point, he couldn't seem to grasp what she was hinting at.
"Why was it stupid of me?" he asked blandly. Serena's eyes glittered briefly, and she sat up straighter, with all the air of an instructor getting ready to educate her pupils. She opened her mouth to speak, only to pause, and give Renard an expectant look. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Renard sat back down, catching a glimpse of the Icetales' smirk as he did.
"That's better," Serena commented, her tails fluttering idly. "It was dumb because everything you know about Diablos is from two hundred years ago. Almost everything you know about darkness was learned from him, or from me. You were terrified of him, but you didn't even think of consulting with me before going after him like an idiot."
"I thought at first the best course was to avoid engaging him until more information could be gathered," Renard argued calmly. "It was only after seeing the state of the forest that-"
"Tauros shit," Serena growled, and Renard blinked. "You can lie to yourself or justify your actions however you want, but don't think you can fool me. You were afraid of him because you betrayed him, and assumed he'd remember."
"He was using me," Renard insisted, his fur bristling with barely contained anger. "Using me and Lucia for his own twisted gain."
"You were both too naive to question his goal," Serena countered. "Once you felt like you were being taken advantage of, you didn't even try to talk things out or confront him."
Renard narrowed his eyes. "You play devil's advocate far too readily, Serena," he noted quietly.
"Hard not to when the argument is two hundred years old," the Icetales scoffed. "You made yourself an enemy that day. An enemy who had already 'tainted' your heart with darkness. He helped my power to awaken within you, and now I'm a curse upon you, right?"
Renard flinched. Several times, he attempted to contradict the statement, but every time, the words refused to leave his mouth. Serena observed this reaction with a cool, knowing gaze.
"Don't bother denying it. You can't actually lie to me, because I am you," Serena continued, speaking so quietly Renard could scarcely catch the words. "That's why you're dumb. I know everything you know, but also a ton of things you don't."
Renard shifted, uncomfortably aware of Serena's cold tone. "I apologize if I've offended-"
"I'm not offended, damn it!" Serena snapped. "I'm just explaining why not talking to me sooner was idiotic. Don't you realize how rare it is for someone to have a rapport with their darkness? Did it just never occur to you that maybe we could have been better prepared to confront Diablos if we had collaborated?"
Renard didn't answer at first. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He hadn't rushed recklessly into the situation at the Chateau, but he certainly could have been better prepared. Considering his fears had revolved around the effect Diablos might have on his emotional state, especially in the wake of Echo's death, neglecting to talk to Serena beforehand seemed inordinately foolish.
"So...how do we move forward from this?" the golden fox asked carefully.
Serena snorted, her tails lashing for a moment. "You can start by reviewing what you learned from the botched encounter. I'll get you started with some key points, but you need to do your own reflecting, because spelling everything out for you would probably take all night."
"Okay," Renard said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes again. "What did you find?"
"Two things," Serena said, pausing to stretch her forelegs. "Overconfidence is still Diablos' weakness, and Lucia IS the one who sealed him originally."
Renard smiled with absent fondness, his paw touching the Key Stone hanging at his chest. The small stone felt warm to his touch, but the Ninetales still felt oddly somber, aware that the other piece of the set was still absent. Feeling the ice vixen's eyes upon him, Renard shook himself out of his daze, blinking rapidly. "Sorry, did you say something else?"
"We'll get the stone back," Serena answered with an unnervingly serious tone, a faint pink aura forming around her body, making her look like she was glowing. Her blue eyes flicked vaguely towards the north, and Renard shivered.
"...you cursed it, didn't you?" he asked. Serena looked back at him in silence, but the coldness in her eyes told him everything. "What kind of curse, Serena?" the male Ninetales demanded, growling the words in his best no-nonsense voice.
"Let's just say that Force had better take good care of it," Serena answered, her mouth curling into a wicked smirk. "Also lets me track the bitch."
Renard opened his mouth to argue, then paused, scrunching up his face in confusion. After several seconds of indecision, he shook his head. Probably better not to question Serena's terminology - she got too much enjoyment from his reactions as it was. Instead, he frowned at her disapprovingly.
"You know I don't like casting vengeful curses," he reminded her, a faint growl leaving his throat.
"It's not a vengeful curse; it's attached to an inanimate object," Serena contradicted curtly.
"So it operates indiscriminately?" Renard demanded. Serena's fur bristled at the male's tone, and the temperature of the air around them dropped significantly, the ice vixen's eyes flashing dangerously.
"Now, you look here," she growled, holding eye contact with Renard, who glared back defiantly, refusing to be intimidated by her. "The more you pretend not to feel the agony of eventually losing everything you give the slightest damn about, one by one, the more it's going to hurt. The first pain of loss was from your mother's passing, and back then, Lucia was the only one able to calm our rage and soothe the pain. Or have you chosen to forget why you fell for her?"
"I remember," Renard said, averting his gaze uncomfortably. The pale pink aura had gradually spread until it fully and clearly engulfed the ice vixen's translucent form, and her blue eyes were glowing eerily. Pain resonated within his chest with every breath, and he was struggling to fight back bitter tears.
"Good," Serena spat. "Then you know why I won't tolerate her memory being insulted to my face, and why I'm going to such lengths to retrieve what rightfully belongs to us. If you oppose my methods so much, then just go ahead and dispel the curse yourself. Yeah, lose track of her Lucarionite for another two centuries. Least the first time it was lost, she was still alive."
Renard looked deeply discomforted by the ice vixen's words. The lump in his throat had returned, and he found himself unable to say anything at all. Serena averted her gaze at last, and the glowing of her eyes faded. She seemed suddenly distracted and weary, as if the burden of time was weighing down on her more than usual.
"Whatever," the Icetales muttered. "It's been a rough day. Better turn in now...next time we chat, I'll contact you."
And with that, the translucent Ninetales disappeared entirely from Renard's sight, causing him to feel strangely alone. His mind was buzzing with disjointed and distracted thoughts, conflicting feelings about what Serena had said, as well as the concerns plaguing him in the aftermath of the failed confrontation earlier that day.
The problem with facing one's demons was that they made their home inside you. Issues and conflict never really left, even when the waters seemed calm and the skies clear. That was the true nature of wrestling with one's darkness. Darkness always remained, whether you accepted or even acknowledged it...it was always there.
End of Arc 4
