Toei, Saban, Fox Kids, and Bandai own and hold all rights to Digimon. They beat me to the punch at the checkout, and I had to settle for pencil crayons. Darn it!

Same warnings apply as in the previous chapter except that we're time traveling today. So buckle in and be prepared as the story switches from the present to the past and back again. Something interesting for readers to note however; Betamon and Wormmon are virus type Digimon according to Megchan and my Digimon magazines, and we all know that they have Digidestined partners. How does that apply to the story? Well read on and you'll see.

I have to apologize for lateness of this chapter. Due to the laptop I usually type out my stories on taking a vacation, i.e. my dad going on a business trip and my not copying it onto a disk, this has been pushed back two weeks. ~groans~ In other news, I got Photoshop 6 for Christmas. It's addicting…too addicting….

Flames are definitely going into my furnace.

Second Comings

History Lessons

By ShannonL

"Piedmon can't be back! He can't!" Tears were streaking down Michael's face. Tears of joy, sadness, anger, or fear, Betamon couldn't tell. Maybe a little of each. "I thought Takeru's Digimon destroyed him, and he was gone for good!"

Betamon laid a gentle flipper on Michael's knee. "MagnaAngemon didn't delete him, only contained him within the Gate of Destiny. Somehow, in some way, you were able to shatter the grip of that the Gate of Destiny had on him, and he was able to break free."

Michael buried his head in his hands. "My Lord, what have I done? I've loosed the Dark Emperor on the Digital World. And yet…" And yet I'm glad he's back. I wanted, no, needed him to be back. How could I? I thought I had rid myself of these unwanted and selfish feelings. But not even time has eroded them. I still love him. But as a Digidestined I'm bond to help any who try to defeat him, even if they try to kill him. But I can't do that; how could I to someone I love? What to do…what to do…what to do?! Completely unbidden, his mind began to drift back to a land far away, in a time long ago, where a emperor and his imperial musician could love without reprisal, and waited to tell their story….

Destiny spins out many tales, each unique to the person it was fated to. As Michael watched his unfold before him, another dreamed of his and the blonde haired prince that had been so instrumental to it. It was a quiet night in Odaiba, the type where one would least expect the stirrings of events that would change the lives of so many, especially the youth lying curled in his bed. Daisuke hugged Veemon closer as he slept, pulling the flannel covers tighter of him as he did so. His golden skin shone like the sun in the moonlight, or so the figure watching him supposed. Myotismon had never actually seen the sun, but the figure on the bed was just as radiant, perhaps more so, as he, unlike his counterpart, embraced the shadows yet did not destroy them.

With a wave of his hand the locks on the window undid and the glass silently slid open. Myotismon moved to enter the boy's room but found himself thwarted as an electrifying invisible force pushed him back. I forgot that the rules for vampires on Earth are a bit different than those in the Digiworld. Blast it! I need to be invited in…As if Daisuke had sensed the dilemma of his unseen counterpart; he stirred imperceptibly and murmured softly a plea that came in the form of a name. It was as good an invite as any, and Myotismon allowed a fleeting smile to cross his lips as the barrier gave way and he was allowed entrance to the Digidestined's chamber.

Two long strides later he was standing over his love. He hadn't been so close to him in many years, only that one time before they were brutally torn apart by the Digidestined and that blasted eighth child. He stroked Daisuke's henna coloured hair, his cinnamon scent intoxicating him beyond all reason. It had been too long. Even the taste of the energy his beloved threw off, the energy of wild fires and tumultuous storms, was enough to send him reeling.

Myotismon pressed a hand against Veemon's closed eyes, and began to weave a spell that would guarantee that the dragon digimon would not even stir until dawn. When Veemon slumped into a deeper and more unnatural sleep, Myotismon let out a snort of satisfaction. Finally he and Daisuke would not be disturbed.

Sweeping off the covers, he picked up Daisuke's lean body, and cradled him close. Daisuke shivered as he unconsciously wrapped his arms around Myotismon and clutched him tight. The cause of this was easily apparent. All Daisuke was clad in was a pair of thin yellow pajamas, hardly any protection from the icy air seeping in through the open window. Myotismon covered the trembling youth with his cloak, and gently smiled as he stopped shaking.

Daisuke's eyes opened. "Myotismon…you came back?" he said warmly, still drowsy with sleep.

"Sleep now my love," Daisuke's eyes closed again as the sleeping spell took hold. "One last thing," the goggles that had proudly adorned Daisuke's head floated off and settled themselves on the pillow where Veemon slept. "There…perfect. And we'll need these as well." The D3 and the D-terminal drifted up into Myotismon's free hand. All the tools that he needed were now in his possession. All that he needed now to do was leave this decrepit little place and let the Digidestined wonder what had happened.

And that is what he did.

Cold, it was bloody cold.

That had been Michael's first thought when he had landed in what he would find out to be the kingdom of Musyamon. It was a craggy, glacial mountain range filled with large, rabid, and very hungry Digimon, all that had thought Michael and his newfound partner Betamon would make quite a decent snack. Michael wouldn't have minded a snack himself, since there was very little around and most of it went to his amphibian friend as if he didn't eat, and do it regularly, then he couldn't digivolve either. Seadramon was often called on after being ambushed by some great fanged Digimon to save both their tails. He was not quite sure how this digivolving thing quite worked though. All he could tell that it involved Betamon being well fed, danger, and a peculiar device that supposedly channeled his energy to Betamon and helped him to digivolve (Michael didn't believe that was all it did however. He believed the suspicious little digivice, or so Betamon called it, was responsible for dragging him here in the first place!)

Man I wish Seadramon was here right now!

Michael was running the best he could through the snow. Betamon and him had been separated during an avalanche and as soon as he had dug himself from the snow, he had found himself staring face to face with the large serrated jaws of a Snimon. He had had no time to look for the little mohawked digimon, only enough to throw himself to the side as the Snimon's jaws snapped shut. And then he was off running towards the little spot of light Betamon had spotted before the avalanche had torn them apart, trying to ignore the fact that to the Snimon, he was the very definition of fast food.

As he approached closed to the light, he began to see little plumes of smoke lazily rising from where the glow was coming from. And suddenly he found himself at the lip of a huge valley, where sprawled out on its floor, a city filled with Digimon was happily going about its business.

Suddenly Michael found himself airborne, as he was picked off the ground by a pair of huge taloned feet. The Snimon…Michael thought as he frantically tried to free himself from its clutches. In desperation, his hand latched onto his digivice and he pointed it towards the Snimon's face. Come on you hunk of techno junk…I always thought you did more than tell the time....Now prove me right! A screech emitted from the digivice and the Snimon screamed as suddenly it was bombarded by pure, burning radiance. Howling in pain, it dropped its prey and fled towards the forest where it had came from in search of a much easier meal.

The Snimon wasn't the only one who was howling. Michael shrieked in terror as he fell towards the slopes surrounding the city. He had been higher up than he thought, and certainly he was going to become a red splat on the slopes this time!

He blacked out.

A dull aching sensation greeted him as he woke up. He just lay there as his head pounded and his organs and bones screamed at the ordeal they had just suffered. To move was to invite pure agony to race along ever fiber of his being. So he did the only thing he could: he breathed. Breathed and waited for the pain to somewhat subside.

In the past Daisuke had never been patient, especially in the face of danger. So when he and his family been taken prisoner by the Bakemon who had invaded his apartment naturally he had to do something about it. Just what to do was now the million dollar question as Daisuke slunk around the corridors, keeping a sharp look out for any of the Bakemon guards that popped up from time to time. His mahogany eyes sparkled as he spotted a door two Bakemon were guarding rather nervously. Daisuke wondered what could be in there. But before he could do a thing about it, a hand clamped around his shoulder and its owner's voice said, "Now there, where do you think you're going. All good children are back in the main room."

Daisuke slowly turned around, "Who said I was good?" and found himself facing the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He had hair that looked like it had been spun from gold and eyes like glacial ice. Pale lilac lips quirked in a smile when Daisuke proclaimed, "My sister says I'm evil, bad to the core." Well Jun did say that, whether she meant that or not was still up for debate.

The man seemed amused by that, and chuckled, "So you're a naughty little boy….I like that." Myotismon looked the boy over. Something drew him to the child like a magnet, something he couldn't quite place his finger on. "So tell me your name; I can't keep calling you boy, now can I?"

"I'm Daisuke…and I guess you're Myotismon." He's a lot nicer than anybody says. Not to mention cool. He's way cool. Not what you'd expect of a monster or a bad guy. They're supposed to be hairy, and smelly, and really, really ugly. Myotismon is none of these things…If he is a bad guy, why hasn't he killed me yet?

"Ahh…so you've heard of me." He bent down to stroke Daisuke's red hair. He had no idea why he felt so warmly towards the child, or that matter, why he hadn't hauled him back to the others so they could test him to see if he was the eighth child. Daisuke threw off enough energy that it was very possible that he was the Digidestined child he had come to destroy. Yet something told him he was not. Daisuke possessed great power, yes that was for certain, and yes, there was more than a trace of digital energy lacing it, but it was not the kind he had felt radiating from the crest. His was of a wild and fiery sort, not the holiness of the eighth child's crest.

Daisuke giggled a little. "Of course I've heard of you. The adults talk non-stop about Myotismon. But they never mention how cool and handsome you are."

The expression that crossed Myotismon's face could only be described as flattered. He could hear the sincerity and admiration ringing in his voice, and it warmed him to the core like nothing else had before. "Handsome, eh?" Daisuke was the same age as the youngest Digi-brat Takeru, but yet he was so different. Innocent, yes, but his mischievousness and sheer boldness gave him a magnetism that he wouldn't pull away from even if he could. Was it love? Could it be? Might it be? Did love stir tempests in the hearts of monsters, and rock entire worlds in an instant? If it did, then it could safety be assumed; Myotismon was in love.

"Here, I want to show you something." And with that Myotismon lifted Daisuke and set him on his shoulder. He strolled over to the door the Bakemon were guarding and glowered down at them. The Bakemon scrambled out of the way. Why Myotismon wanted to bring a human into the room where his special whatever was located was beyond them, but were they going to question it? No way. The Bakemon were many things, but certainly not suicidal.

"Ohhh…my…head…."

Michael rubbed his face as he slowly came to. The last thing he remembered was lying in the snow, broken and bleeding. Yet the snow couldn't be this warm or this soft. One hand flew to his chest only to find it dressed and bandaged. "What the…"

"So you're awake."

"Who's there?" Michael sat up and nearly screamed. The pain was so intense. He just sat there for a minute gasping, before croaking out, "Well, who's there?"

"Just your timely saviors. When we found you, you were half frozen from the cold. If we hadn't, you would have been one frozen Digimon. If you are one. You know, you kinda resemble a girl and her friends we used to know. Princess Mimi and the rest of the Digidestined looked a lot like you."

"But who are you?"

"Geckomon and Otamamon at your service. Now if you don't mind, we'd like to know the same."

Michael craned his neck around to look at them. Okay, now I've seen everything. Who would have expected an overgrown gecko with a horn wrapped around his next and a walking, talking tadpole to save me? But they seem nice enough so… "My name's Michael Harper and I'm from Earth, where I expect I'm not now. You mind telling me where I am at the moment and if you've seen an amphibian Digimon by the name of Betamon. We got separated out in the mountains and I'm really worried about him."

"Betamon…Betamon. We've seen no Betamon around here. Usually you don't find Betamon up here, they stick to the warmer climes near the sea…unless…he was your partner, no?"

"Yes." Michael was getting very confused. Where was this all going?

The Geckomon looked pensive. "That would explain a lot. I thought you were Digidestined, only they carry around those digivices…" He gestured to the innocent seeming device sitting atop of what looked like a pile of Michael's own tattered clothes. "Since you're a Digidestined, you must know this! Your life would be in grave danger if anybody found out you were human. This is Borana, the keep of Lord Musyamon. He, in turn, is ruled by the Emperor Piedmon, who is the fiercest and most powerful of the four Dark Masters that rule the digital lands and seas. Though they do not know it yet, Lord Piedmon has vowed to destroy them all to prevent a prophecy from coming to pass. The Digidestined will purge the Digital World of all its darkness, including Piedmon. The Digidestined left the Digiworld many years ago to pursue Lord Myotismon as he went to hunt for the one Digidestined that had been left behind. But they'll be back. I know it, and Piedmon knows it too."

"In other words," the Otamamon chimed in, "If they find out whom you really are, you're dead."

"What a lovely thought," Michael said sarcastically, "So what do we do about it?"

"Well, the first thing we have to work on is your name. Can't run around calling you Michael, it's a dead give away, and in your case, you'd be dead seconds after giving it away."

"Hmmm…" Michael thought for a moment, "Would Michaemon do?"

Otamamon smiled, "I do believe it would."

"Okay, now we have to deal with your level and type. I'd think Rookie would be best since you're way too big to be an In-Training and though you're certainly big enough to pass for Champion level, we don't want you to be forced to fight in Musyamon's army…"

"Certainly not. Humans don't have any special attacks or anything. I'd be toast in seconds." Though I did manage to roast Snimon pretty well back there. "I think I better be the same type as Betamon. Can't Digimon sense power emitting from other Digimon or humans? I mean, even though they were hungry, most Digimon hesitated for a few seconds before attacking Betamon and I, even though we looked virtually defenseless."

"Virus it is then. Though usually only higher level Digimon can sense the energy that others throw off. But if you run into Musyamon, or any Digimon stronger, having a virus for a partner can't hurt. They'll sense Betamon's energy along with your own thanks to your digivice, and in the Digiworld, it's practically unthinkable that a Digidestined would have a viral partner." Geckomon scowled for a moment, "I'm having a hard enough time believing it as it is."

"Heeeeyyyy…."

"Not saying there's anything wrong with your partner Michael." Geckomon soothed quickly. "Any way, we have some fresh clothes and some Tunla root soup for you. The soup does nothing to help us Digimon, but it does speed the healing processes in humans a lot."

A few hours later, fed, nearly completely healed (That Tunla root soup really does work wonders) and dressed, Michael was ready to leave his rescuers and return the forest to look for Betamon. "Thanks guys for the clothes, and the food, and…uh, pulling me out of the snow and patching me up. I owe you big time. If there's anything…and I mean anything I can do to repay you, just ask."

The Otamamon looked longingly at a crimson violin that hung above the fireplace, "I know you probably can't do this but Geckomon and I are the royal instrument makers, but we've never had the chance to hear the music that our instruments play. We love all sorts of music, and I wonder if you could play something on the red violin up there. Nobody wants it because fiddling is practically a lost art, and the only violinists in the Digiworld are either deleted or in Piedmon's court."

"On the violin, eh?" Michael looked at the instrument appraisingly. Athletics, and others talents had escaped him, but at least he could say he was a decent musician. And it happened to be that the violin was the instrument he was best at. Even though I'm not Carnegie Hall material, I'm still okay. Any way I owe the little guys. What do I have to lose? Michael grinned, "I think I could do just that."

"You don't have to Michael, you Digidestined have done much for us, it was a pleasure for us to help you." The Geckomon seemed to be jumping out of his skin with nervousness. Michael wondered why; it wasn't like they would take him away for playing.

"But I want to. Happens to be that playing the violin is the only thing I'm really good at." Michael gently lifted the violin from its place on the mantle. A warm feeling covered him, and went through him; it was almost like he was destined to find this violin or something. He positioned the violin snugly at just the right spot beneath his neck, lifted the wand, and began to play.

The notes that came out were like nothing Michael had heard before. They penetrated the entire room, running off the violin like warm honey, and to his ears just as sweet. Geckomon and Otamamon were entranced, mouths making little Os of surprise and awe. Michael was just as stunned; the song was one of Mozart's and very difficult as well. He had never attempted to play it, only heard it a few times, yet by the way his fingers were expertly working the strings, he would have sworn he'd been playing for years. It was almost like the violin was playing itself. By the time the last few melodic notes were played out, Michael was staring suspiciously at the instrument. He had never played this well in his life, hadn't even approached it.

"Woooww…." Geckomon and Otamamon breathed. "I have never heard anything like that before." Geckomon added.

Ka-Thunk!

The door fell in as several large and very tough looking Digimon stormed in and surrounded Michael, Geckomon, and Otamamon. Michael's eyebrow began to twitch nervously. Maybe it is a crime to play after all. "Uh, gentlemon, can we help you with something?"

What looked to be the leader of the Digimon stepped forward, "Who was playing the violin?" He then saw the crimson violin clutched in Michael's hands and snorted disgustedly with himself. He peered beadily down at the young musician, "You! Digimon, what is your name? I've never seen your type in all my years as captain of Musyamon's guard."

"Mi-Michaemon…" Michael stuttered. He just knew that they could tell he wasn't a real Digimon. They were going to kill him for sure!

"Michaemon…" The captain glowered at the frightened Michael. "Michaemon…it's a pretty name, but somehow it doesn't fit you right." Michael gulped. "Well…Michaemon, you are coming with us. Lord Musyamon is playing host to Emperor Piedmon tonight, and it just happens Emperor Piedmon's favorite kind of musician is a violinist. Sadly violinists have been in short supply in the Digiworld lately, and we were afraid that we were going to disappoint the Emperor by not having his favorite form of entertainment on hand. It's very lucky that we found you Michaemon, wouldn't you agree…?" 

"What is that? It's so pretty…it kinda looks like a rip in space. And this is weird; I can feel loads of energy coming of it. I can't really describe it…it's beckoning me…welcoming me…it feels comforting, warm. It feels…digital? I don't know how anything could feel digital, but this does. Am I making any sense?"

"Perfect sense Daisuke." That settled it then. Daisuke was a future Digidestined, no doubt about it, even though he wasn't the eighth child. Only Digimon and Digidestined could ever see a tear in the fabric between the two worlds, even as small as this one was. He had an opportunity here, one he would probably never have again. The chance to have his own Digidestined child…one he could mold into what a Digidestined should be, and many other things too.

"What is it Lord Myotismon? I've never seen anything like it." said Daisuke, not even noticing the title he had addressed Myotismon as. All his attention was captured by the sparkling tear in the middle of the room. If he concentrated hard enough, he could see another land through that rip. It was strange, it seemed to be calling to him and it was all he could do not to touch it. That distant land felt like home…more like home than any place he'd lived in.

"A digital portal Daisuke. This connects your world to my world and vice-versa. Soon it will completely open and I'll show you that world you see." That among many other things.

Daisuke's eyes opened wide and he clasped his hands together. To say the young boy was positively thrilled was an understatement in the least. "Really?" Daisuke couldn't believe his luck; what boy could say he'd visited a strange alien world filled with huge, scary, really cool monsters and neat stuff. And even better yet, he was going to visit it with Myotismon. Now there was a cool guy. Gorgeous too. Daisuke might have been young but he knew his heart and Myotismon had found a very special place in it.

"Lord Myotismon! Lord Myotismon!" The screeches echoing around the hall were unmistakably from DemiDevimon. "Lord Myotismon, we've found her! We've found the eighth child! Lord Myotismon!"

"Wait here Daisuke, I shouldn't be long. I've got to do a little pest control and then I'll be back."

He ran his fingers through Daisuke's thick hair one last time and swept out of the room, intend of finally finishing the job he started so long ago.

Musyamon's palace was nothing short of luxurious, Michael decided, as the group of guards led him through the warren of guest rooms that housed various visiting Digimon dignitaries. Rich wool tapestries were hung on every wall and the red marble floor was polished mirror bright. He clutched the crimson violin tighter. Damn thing had screwed everything up. He should be out in the forest right now searching for Betamon, not playing entertainer to a bunch of creatures that would happily spill his guts on the ballroom floor if they even got a hint of what he truly was. The anger was bubbling beneath the surface. When he got to his room (aka his jail cell) he would have to release it before it got him into big trouble.

 Again.

"Michaemon, this is your room, do not try to leave it. If you need anything, ask one of guards positioned outside. Fresh clothes have been laid out for you, and it is expected that you wear them if you want to live. Lord Musyamon has commanded that every Digimon look their best for when the Emperor comes, and that doesn't exclude you. And…" The captain of the guard leaned closer to Michael to whisper in his ear, "you should know that Emperor Piedmon shows considerable…fondness for musicians, especially violinists. Act appropriately if he shows any fondness for you. Good luck."

The captain straightened up, and assumed a more professional attitude. "I will be back for you in three hours. Be sure you are ready."

He ushered Michael inside a chamber and then locked him in. Michael looked around at his new surroundings, absolutely amazed at their splendor. Clearly Musyamon had spared no expense when building his fortress. The suite was done in a strange kind of dark scarlet wood that smelled strangely of sandalwood; delicately painted frescos graced the ceiling and the walls; a fireplace of that same red marble was set in the far corner with a fire already roaring cheerily in it; to top it off there was a large white pelt from some unfortunate Digimon underfoot. Lovely, beautiful, sumptuous – all these words came to Michael's mind. Yet he had not forgotten about the burly guards outside. No matter how gilded a cage is, it is still a cage.

He glanced at the clothes lying on the four poster bed. I have to wear that? Oooo those pants look tight. He quickly shed the homespun garments Geckomon and Otamamon had gave him and began pulling on his new clothes after carefully removing all the bandages that had covered his former injuries and cleansing himself of all dirt. When done, he walked over to a full length mirror and raked his gaze over his reflection. Very impressive, I must admit. Though I hope I don't ever have to bend over tonight. Could be, no scratch that, would be embarrassing. Whoever had picked out his clothes for him had certainly known how to dress him to maximum effect. The black leather pants, though tight, was a good contrast to the garnet coloured silk shirt he had been given. Michael searched through his cast off garb, and located his Digivice. He held it up to the light to decide what to do with it: leave it in the room, where it could be discovered and cause him to be killed or take it with him, risk being discovered with it and being killed. Ah, choices, choices. He finally decided to go with plan B. If he got lucky, the digivice would blind and cook everybody in the room, leaving him with a chance to make it out into the forest and find Betamon. So after a little effort, he got the digivice hid under his clothes in such a way that it would not fall out.

After some time there came a pounding at the door. Michael slipped on his boots and grabbed the crimson violin as the door swung open to reveal the captain of the guards looking very tense indeed. "It's time," he grunted. The expression on the captain's face was very peculiar. He looked like he was going to throw up any minute from worry.

"Is the Emperor here?" Michael asked as he stepped out of the room. The butterflies were starting up in his stomach as well.

"Yes." The reply was very terse. "Do you remember what I told you?"

"Yes."

"Keep remembering that then. For all our sakes."

The ballroom where the festivities were being held was in a word – packed. It seemed every kind of Digimon and then some had decided to attend. Large tables were overflowing with exotic dishes and flagons of wine were being passed all about the attendees. On the surface everything seemed merry and carefree but Michael could sense the underlying tension in the room. He quickly scanned the room and was surprised when he discovered what the fuss was being made about. That's Piedmon?! He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, something bigger with very sharp claws and teeth maybe, but not this. The mon looked sort of like a jester, but with a more regal and Shakespearean flair. Anyway this Piedmon was nobody to be laughed at. Michael could literally sense the sheer power rolling off him in waves. Yet he could not find it in himself to be frightened. He felt comfortable around the Digimon, more comfortable than he had felt in a long time. Piedmon glanced his way and for a moment ruby eyes met sapphire. Michael gasped, it was like grabbing a hold of a live power cable or being struck by lightening, something seemed to arc from Piedmon to him and back to him. Then Piedmon broke eye contact and he breathed again. What in bloody hell had happened?

Over at his seat at the head of the main banquet table Piedmon was similarly confused. He had felt something connect the attractive young mon and himself for a moment. But what? What was it about that Digimon that made his head spin? Better question yet, what was that Digimon? He looked somewhat like Gennai and those annoying Digidestined children. But Gennai didn't radiate the power this one did, and the power had the distinct taint of a virus Digimon. No Digidestined would even dare consort with virii, much less bond with them. The Digidestined-Digimon partner bond was an intimate one, and he knew that the Digidestined were disgusted with everything that had even the hint of darkness. So not a Digidestined either. That still begged the question, who exactly was he?

"Ah, I've seen you've noticed Michaemon. He's more than a pretty mon, let me tell you that. He's the master of a lost art, and a rare jewel of Borana." Musyamon pointed to the newly identified Michaemon, who was threading his way towards the stage. Piedmon only gave half of his attention to Musyamon. In his opinion, Musyamon was no more than an oafish, slobbering twit, and so beneath him he didn't even deserve his full attention. MachineDramon was better company.

"What type and level is he?" Not that he couldn't find out for himself, but he was bored and Musyamon might provide some amusement.

"Viral Rookie my lord."

"That's odd, he feels much too strong for a Rookie."

"Michaemon!" Musyamon snapped his fingers, "it's time to show everyone why you're here."

"Yes my lord." Michael gritted his teeth as he bowed. He would play nice for now, and try to make a break for it later. As he looked up he saw Piedmon starring at him and every thought seemed to wash away on a warm current. As like before, his hands began to move on their own volition and he began to play.

What came out of the violin this time made the song at Geckomon and Otamamon's house look clumsy and amateurish. The whole room went silent as the music seemed to speak to each of them individually. Michael had no idea of what he was playing this time, he had never even heard the song before, never even dreamed it, yet it bewitched, enraptured and ensnared anyone who heard it. He was sure of it now; the violin was enchanted in some way. And yet the song was familiar in some unknown and indiscernible way. He couldn't explain it….

Long after the song finished everything remained silent. Every Digimon was staring at him and nervously awaiting the reaction of Piedmon. Michael blushed; he didn't like being the center of attention.

"Musyamon…why didn't you tell me sooner about this Digimon. Such talent like this belongs in the Imperial court, not in some backwater land playing for peasants and riff-raff. I am very disappointed…."

"My lord, we just discovered him! He's been out in the forests for a very long time…."

"Silence!" Piedmon cut off Musyamon with a wave of his hand, "Clearly you've been an incompetent ruler if you don't even know what's going on in your own lands." Piedmon was clearly enjoying himself; Musyamon was on edge, where he should be. He lowered his voice to a dangerous purr, "You can make this up to me…"

Musyamon blanched, his normally fierce features going slack with terror. "How so my lord?"

"Give me Michaemon, and I'll consider just removing you from your seat of power, instead of deleting you on the spot."

Michael swallowed hard as he overheard that. Musyamon did not look like he wanted to give him up. Indeed he shot Michael a glazed looked filled with desperation and insanity. Michael took a step back. Clearly the music had done more to Musyamon than simply enrapture him. It had given him a deadly obsession with it and its maker. There was going to be a fight, and he, Michael, was going to be right in the middle of it.

Musyamon seemed to blur for a moment and reappeared right behind Michael. Michael's face drained to pure white as he felt a heavy hand lock onto his shoulder and something sharp poke him the back. "You're not going anywhere Michaemon." What insanity was this?! Musyamon was only a high level Champion, while Piedmon was a Mega. Musyamon wasn't going to accomplish anything but get them both killed. Michael watched Piedmon draw his swords and begin to circle slowly. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as the rage he neglected to release in his room reappeared and exploded outwards, fuelled by his terror and sheer desire to live, bringing heat. His digivice began to vibrate under his shirt, and his skin became scorching hot. "Let. Me. Go." Michael hissed softly, not noticing that he in the process had picked up a soft glow that limed his body.

"Arggh!" Musyamon howled as he staggered back, clutching his wrist as his sword clattered to the ground. Michael threw himself to the ground and saw a most horrifying sight. The hand that had grabbed his shoulder had been burned off entirely.

"TRUMP SWORDS!" Musyamon exploded in a cloud of data; Piedmon had finished him off. Piedmon looked at him for a moment in concern, and then snapped at one of Musyamon's former servants, "Ready my coach immediately. Michaemon and I are leaving. Now!"

As the servant bowed and scampered off to do his bidding, Michael pulled himself up and dusted himself off. That was close; I've been nearly killed three times in one day! He looked up and found Piedmon gazing down at him. Michael bowed, again feeling that magical sensation connect him and Piedmon together.

"Thank you my lord for saving my life. I am indebted to you always."

"You are very welcome Michaemon." Was that tenderness that sparkled in Piedmon's eyes? "That was some attack for a Rookie, but I expected nothing less from a Virus. Now fetch your cloak. We're going."

Michael asked a servant to bring him just that, and collected his violin. At last the servant returned with it and he fastened the thick blood red cloak securely on. It was time to go. And now there was no chance to enter the forests and look for Betamon. Betamon, I will find you, I promise.

Daisuke fidgeted as he waited for Myotismon's return. It was taking an awfully long time…and Myotismon said he only had a little pest problem and that was it. He was slowly getting the sneaking suspicion that Myotismon wasn't dealing with a small matter, but several large and hostile ones. Hopping up from his seat on the ground he went to open the door only to find it locked. Daisuke grinned. No little lock was going to stop him. He began scrounging around the tiny room, looking for something, anything that could help. Daisuke was beginning to feel a little panicky, nothing seemed useful and he could feel that Myotismon had gotten himself into major trouble. He decided to forget the door and go straight out through the ventilation shaft.

Why didn't I think of this before?

But before he could pry the grate off the entrance to the shaft, what seemed like a blinding light flashed before his eyes. Daisuke clutched his chest in agony, the light brought with it pain, indescribable pain than ran him through and consumed him. Myotismon…was his last conscious thought before he fell and let merciful darkness enfold him.

Hours later Daisuke awoke, unsure of just what quite happened. He coughed violently, wiping off salt encrusted on his cheeks. He felt like something had been torn out of him and was only now just beginning to return. His chest burned. Out, must get out…A nearly primal panic seized him. Myotismon still hadn't returned and the air in the room was beginning to flicker as the digital portal grew dark. Daisuke seized the grate and ripped it from the wall with a strength born of sheer terror. He shot into the grate and headed to where the air smelled the cleanest. His sister had once said that in the dark the surest bet to get out was to go where the air was fresher. That almost certainly was the way to the outside. Daisuke held to Jun's advice now. He followed the air and was faintly surprised to find a beam of light coming from a far off grate. Daisuke paused; sounds of roars and explosion and shrieks of pain were also filtering in with the light. Carefully removing the grate he was treated to a horrifying sight.

Myotismon was there alright, but something strange had happened – he was so big. Other changes were there as well. A set of crimson wings had sprouted from his back, their leathery bat-like span seeming to fill the entire sky. The beautiful golden hair had grown long and wild, shimmering with an unholy light. He looked like some dark angel, fierce and untamed. And how his heart ached for him.

Daisuke watched as what seemed to be a metal wolf and a dragon warrior hurled bolts of ice and fire at his beloved. Daisuke growled, this was not supposed to happen! He loved Myotismon with all his soul and nobody, nobody should be able to threaten his beloved and get away with it. Myotismon staggered back, and Daisuke bit back a scream. He was feeling every hit his love took and it was taking every bit of his strength not to surrender to the blackness creeping in on him from all sides.

Children came, eight of them, circling like jackals around Myotismon. They held strange devices in their hands and the amulets hanging around their necks began to glow.

Daisuke's eyes grew wide. This couldn't be good.

Eight bands of light, each coloured a different shade of the rainbow sprang up and fastened themselves to Myotismon. Some bound his arms, others his legs, and one, the pink one, formed a noose around his neck. Daisuke could feel that last one; it scorched its way into him and no matter how he clawed at his neck, the invisible collar would not come off.

Close to retching with agony he watched as the two monsters set up the killing blow. Daisuke locked his eyes with Myotismon's and in that moment the two were one and it was foresworn that this was not over and they would find some way to reunite. Close your eyes Daisuke, and someday you'll open them to see things set right again…

Myotismon braced himself….

Daisuke closed his eyes…

The dragon man raised his claws and the metal wolf reared up.

"Terra Force!"

"Metal Wolf Claw!"

Pain. Agony. Being torn apart. Screams thickened with blood.

Nothingness….A void where only a promise remained.

Things were drawing to an end.

Michael felt it in his bones. After months of living in Piedmon's imperial palace, months of discreetly inquiring after Betamon, a gnawing feeling was twisting its way inside him. It left him cold and he was frightened. He did not want things to end. His life had been unexplainably blessed when Piedmon had taken him from Borana and his paradigms about his host had been turned upside down and inside out. He had found Piedmon wore more masks than just the one that obscured his face. But nothing could be taken for sure in the digital world.

Piedmon was lonely, worn inside from his quest for riches and power. But the wealth he had sought, the happiness had evaded him. Michael knew probably better than most of the emptiness that power and wealth brings. To be truly wealthy was to love and be loved. And Michael had been shocked to find that he actually did care for the Emperor –deeply. And the Emperor cared for him. Cared though he knew exactly what he was.

Michael had been revealed by a crest, his crest. A Winter Solstice present from Piedmon, and a test. They had been eating a private meal together and Piedmon had just given him a necklace. A tag and a blank crest; trophies from a battle long ago. A Gotsumon had been serving them and while Piedmon had his gaze adverted, poured a vial of the deadliest poison into his golden goblet with the wine he was meting out. The Gotsumon had winked at him as if to say he knew 'Michaemon' was human and a Digidestined and finally both their duties would be finished. Michael wouldn't stand for it…he wouldn't let Piedmon be killed period, especially by such a disgusting and deceitful act. The crest had glowed, and before anyone could blink Michael was telling Piedmon his wine had been poisoned while pinning the Gotsumon to the ground, hands wrapped firmly around its neck.

Piedmon had sat quietly there, musing for long minutes before calling Michael off. Apparently it had been all a set up. A test of loyalties. What had betrayed Michael's identity was the same thing that brought them together.

The crimson violin.

Or as Piedmon told it, "Once, a long time ago, in the Digiworld the master craftsmon carved a violin from the wood that grew in the forests of Zhuqiaomon, the Holy Digimon of the north. The trees that grew in his grove were told to have special powers, powers of revelation and the ability to bring together two people that had their souls welded to each other by fate and an even greater power, love. But Zhuqiaomon doesn't take kindly to thieves, and unknown to all but a few, cursed the wood to only react to a being alien to this world. And so the crimson violin was useless to the few that still had the skill to play. It disappeared through out the ages. And then you appeared. I have traveled the digital lands over and never heard of a digimon quite like you. But there had been whispers and glimpses of human children returning. But you didn't fit the description. No Digidestined ever had curly white-blond hair or a viral as a partner. But when you began to play, I knew…you weren't as advertised. And when you burned Musyamon, there could be no more doubts. No human could do what you did…unless that human was a Digidestined. And now I have my own Digidestined, child of Mercy. A unique creature, not like the others I have seen traveling at this moment to the Digital World to destroy me. The end."

It had been only a few days ago when they had had that conversation. Only a few days…but those days had been the happiest that he could remember. He was Michael again….and when Betamon returned everything would be perfect. But the Digidestined cast a shadow of worry in his mind. They were powerful beings, not to be underestimated.

Was that what was haunting him?

No.

It was simply unexplainable. The dread had grown day by day and now it consumed his waking thoughts as well as his dreaming. What was pursuing him was soon to catch up, and this thing even Piedmon couldn't stop, though try he would – Michael knew it.

One hand reached up and grabbed his crimson cloak, and the other, the violin. Michael's gaze slid out of focus and he began to walk, not even conscious of doing so, or for that matter any other act.

Piedmon happened to be in his throne room as Michael was entranced. From his pedestal he was peering through his telescope, a very useful thing, as it was enchanted and allowed him to see more than just the lay of the land. But no plotting rebels, or meddlesome children tonight. Instead he glimpsed a figure swaddled in billowing red, a violin of the same colour grasped tight in one unknowing hand. What is Michael doing?! The telescope was quick to give an answer to that too. Threads of light, white light bound Michael's limbs like those that bound a marionette. His normally star bright eyes were dull, clouded by a spell that was forcing Michael to trudge deeper and deeper into the wilds surrounding Piedmon's palace. Two figures appeared out of the swirling snow, one of a man, the other some amphibian. Piedmon's eyes flared with an unholy light. Now he knew exactly what was going on. The utter audacity. How dare you attempt to take what is mine you old fool. I was complacent before; I left the job half finished. But be assured; I will gladly remedy that tonight Gennai.

"Michael?"

Michael snapped back to reality. This wasn't the Imperial court, it was too cold and white for that. Way too cold. He seemed to be in a forest, similar to the one he had arrived in and lost Betamon. And there he was…standing there. Betamon. Tears began to well up in Michael's eyes and sparkled like starlight as they blew away in the wind. Had he gone back to the beginning…? Was he dreaming? But how could a dream feel so real?

"Betamon…" Michael choked out, throwing himself at the seeming apparition. "I've been searching so long, though I haven't been able to leave. I've missed you so…it seems like I'm going to wake up and lose you again. Please if I'm dreaming, let me never wake up."

"I've missed you…The days and nights without you by my side Michael have been nightmarish. When I reached Borana, I heard you'd been taken by Piedmon. I didn't know what to expect. There were tales being told of a three way fight between you, Piedmon and Musyamon. But as luck would have it, I came across a Geckomon and an Otamamon. They steered me to Gennai, my companion here. They said he could bring you to me. And he did. Don't leave me again."

"I won't. And Piedmon is nicer than they say, a lot nicer…I'm fine." Michael buried his face in Betamon's shoulder and began to cry once more. Betamon did what he could to comfort his partner but he was clearly beside himself. As Michael finally let go, he noticed a sparkle of gold and squinted to see what it was. What he saw made him gasp.

"A crest…"

"The crest of Mercy - his crest." Both whirled to find Gennai had spoken, breaking his long silence. The old man crinkled his brow thoughtfully. "Piedmon gave that to you, didn't he?"

"Yes…he said it was a trophy that might serve me well one day."

"It will…I know this because he took that 'trophy' from me. And is that you're holding the crimson violin?"

Michael nodded. This was getting confusing.

Gennai seemed to grow even more thoughtful. "Zhuqiaomon's violin. I might have known. Piedmon has told you about its unique properties and how the person who handles it must be just as unique to use it. About its powers of bringing together soul mates."

"Yes…" Michael's voice was barely above a whisper. The dread was stirring again, more powerful than ever before. "It brought together us…and now I do not want to leave him. He has grown…close to my heart."

Gennai nodded sadly. "I feared you might say that. It is best to forget your heart now Michael. You have done what you needed to do here for now and it is time to return home with Betamon. The rest of the Digidestined will be arriving in just a few of this world's days and it would be best for all if you aren't around as they perform their tasks. Forget Michael, forget. Or your feelings might destroy you."

Long moments of silence passed between them. Suddenly Michael clenched his fists and stood up, ram rod straight. "How can I? It will be like forgetting a part of myself. I can't do it. And even if I could, I wouldn't!"

"And you won't!" rang out the voice Piedmon as he strode onto the scene. He unsheathed his swords and readied all his strength. This insult would not go unanswered.

"Piedmon," Gennai said mildly, "what an unexpected treat. But unfortunately Michael must be going. Powers higher than me have ordained it."

"You old fool," Piedmon's eyes became like burning coals, "I should have done away with you when I had the chance all those years ago. For this outrage I shall not nearly be so merciful tonight. Michael is not leaving, as he is mine…any attempt otherwise will not be permitted as long as I'm drawing breath."

"I am afraid neither of you have any choice in the matter."

"You're deluding yourself. I am lord of the Digital World, in command of every inch of soil, every plant, every life. You have no power over this. Our story is not over, but just beginning…and you have no part in it."

"I'm afraid, my dear Piedmon, in this instance you are wrong."

There came a rumbling that seemed to come from the very depths of hell, and the ground beneath Michael and Betamon's feet began to split. Light, terrible light began to spill forth from those fissures and whatever the light touched was turned into digital data and sucked back into the ground to the source of the luminance. Michael screamed as the light began to engulf him and Betamon too. He was being torn apart!

Piedmon rushed towards him before an invisible something grabbed him and threw him back, pinning him against an outcrop of rock. Gennai smiled sadly then vanished, seeming to take no pleasure in his victory.

Michael's vision went white.

Swirling.

Floating.

Lost.

Sensations passing through him. He was being funneled somewhere by the cords of light that bound him. It was strange. He was blind and yet he could see everything. Children and Digimon hurtling to his true home, destroyers and saviors at the same time. Another that had been touched like he was and was mourning the loss of his own love. Piedmon breaking inside, like he was, insanity replacing reason. Neither of them had realized how much they were truly bound together. But that was the way of the Universe. Only when you lose something so precious do you realize the value of what you had.

Piedmon....He mentally reached for him. He was still so close but at the same time so far away.

Something warm splashed on his face. Tears? No…rain. He was standing in the ruins of a courthouse with Betamon by his side. Back to the beginning.

Broken and alone.

Myotismon softly set down by his hide away near the harbor. The memories of their meeting had flickered before him and Daisuke as well, by the things he had said in his sleep while traveling. Myotismon winced; those memories were still poignant and very bittersweet.

The fog wrapped them welcomingly, protecting them from the light of Tokyo. Myotismon entered the mansion by the water. It had once belonged to a very rich businessman until he had claimed it for his own. It was private and hidden away, as the previous owner had valued seclusion from prying eyes above all else. Myotismon had taken advantage of that fact, and had laid so many spells over the villa not even the traitorous Gatomon could find them now. Myotismon passed rare pieces of artwork and ancient tapestries from hundreds of years ago, but paid them no mind. In his arms he held the real treasure, of such beauty and power that when Myotismon released what was lying dormant beneath the surface, all would tremble when beholding his magnificence. Daisuke was the diamond in the rough and Myotismon would enjoy bringing that fire and brilliance to the surface.

He laid him down upon a bed made with the finest of silks and velvets and gently tucked him in. Daisuke frowned as the memory of…the final moments repeated before his eyes and softly cried out. But he calmed visibly as Myotismon stroked his brow and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Dream no more of hurtful things my love. For the promise has been kept and we are together again. We shall make new memories – delightful ones, and we shall met out painful ones as sharp as our own to the ones that have wronged us."

"Destiny is a painful thing isn't it Betamon. It plays with you and there's no way out of its game. But seldom does it hand you a second chance. I have to take that chance…"

"So you're going back." There was no surprise in Betamon's voice. He knew his partner's heart. He knew the choice that he would make.

"Yes. I have to. Piedmon and I were meant to be together. And I want to. Being a Digidestined doesn't mean being a savior of the world always. Sometimes being a Digidestined means saving a heart and putting it back together. You know which heart I have to mend again."

"I'm coming with you. I'm not losing you again!"

"I expected you say that. I'm going to need your help you know. I can't do this alone."

"What are partners for? Anyway without me, you'd probably be captured by someone like Musyamon again."

Michael laughed. "Probably."

And so Michael snuck into his house with Betamon. He grabbed only three things: his crest, a warm red jacket and the crimson violin. It was all that he needed to set things right again. That and a computer. This was downstairs by the lounge where his father could be frequently found.

"You going somewhere Michael?" Ren's voice came echoing from the doorway of his room.

"Yes Dad; it's important. Aren't you supposed to gone? Mel must be mad that you're holding up the trip."

"Naahhh, it's important that I say goodbye to my son before I go. I love you, you know? I might not be a good father but I care. Come here…" He embraced Michael in a hearty hug. "You've grown up so fast….I missed the changes but instead of a child, I have a capable young man." Tears were running down Ren's face. Somehow he sensed that this was it, and the time had come to let Michael go. No amount of court battles could keep his son with him and away from the destiny he faced. "I'm proud of you. But promise me this…don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I won't Dad. I love you." Tears were streaming down Michael's face as well. Good bye had finally come.

"Go now son. Do what you need to do." Ren smiled, his eyes watery and clear. It was the way Michael would always remember him. Strong and proud. The father he had lost long ago and now returned.

Running from the room, Betamon in tow, Michael charged at the computer, never looking back. If he did, he would never let go.

He turned it on and the gate appeared - locked. This had been the very reason why Daisuke had been needed to come to America in the first place.

Powers of bringing together soul mates…

That's what Gennai had said the violin could do. He lifted the violin and positioned it in just the spot and began to play. A sorrowful music began to rise, as beautiful as it was mournful. His crest and digivice began to glow, and the music seemed to grow louder as the whole world stopped to listen. Even what held shut the gates paused, like Hades listening to Orpheus's song, wept and considered. Opened the way so two lovers separated by fate could be reunited.

Michael and Betamon finally disappeared from the room headed to where destiny called them.

Destiny spins out many tales, each unique to the person it was fated to. It can be cruel or kind, but it rarely gives second chances. But sometimes in the universe it happens, when deep wrongs cry out to be righted. Sometimes….For when it does, the story is not finished, and it is not the end but…

The Beginning.

Or more accurately the end of this story. Some things are best left to the imagination and the events after the reunions are in my opinion, one of them. I kinda rolled up chapters two and three into one chapter. I hope no one was confused by the shift of time from the present to the past, and then back again.

Happy Holidays,

ShannonL