Hmmm. You're right, Erriel. It is sort of like Cassandra. I didn't even think of that. And me with my obsessive devotion to myths and legends. For shame.
Anyway, here's the fourth chapter. It was originally going to be two separate ones, but when I looked back at it, I realized that it could be combined.
(Ten whole reviews! Hurrah! Reviewers are my most favorite people in the world. I expect I should try a little harder to be like them.)
{Hmm. "Most favorite"? Does that sound right? It looks a little weird.}
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Once again, I began to range the forest, going in whatever direction I took a mind to, and sleeping in a different place every night.
Finally, after nearly three weeks on my own, I stumbled upon a band of Sneasels, quite by accident. I blundered into their camp while they were napping.
All of them leapt to their feet at once, and several of the strongest of them surged toward me, wrestling me to the ground. I put up no resistance to this rough treatment, and after a few moments, they brought me before their leader.
When their ruler, Queenclaw, questioned me, I told her that I was a traveler, and petitioned to stay with them. I was starved for companionship, and with nothing to really occupy my time, I constantly dwelt on my visions, and what I might have done to prevent them from happening.
After a long moment of thought, Queenclaw decided to grant my request, though I was never sure why she did so. She and her subjects were naturally suspicious Pokemon, and despised outsiders as a general rule. Nevertheless, Queenclaw and I became great friends, and, for a time, I was happy.
But happiness cannot last forever.
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My fourth vision of death was so awful, so horrifying and terrible, that even now I can hardly bear to remember it. This apparition came three days in advance of the actual event, and I came out of it screaming.
~ Paying no attention to the bewildered stares of those around me, I rushed off to tell Queenclaw what I had seen, though by now I had nearly ceased to hope that my visions might be changed.
But perhaps this one last time . . . I thought to myself. After all, Queenclaw was my friend; I had told her of my visions. Whether or not she believed them, I wasn't sure, but she had never said that she disbelieved them. She was my friend, I repeated silently. Surely she would listen. ~
However, as I learned to my sorrow, no one wants to believe ill of those they love. I warned Queenclaw that, in three days time, her consort, Warblade, would betray her. He would lead a troop of rebels against her, attempting to take the leadership of the Sneasel clan for himself. The resulting battle would wipe out nearly every member of the band, including Queenclaw and Warblade, himself. Only a few Sneasels would be left alive to greet the dawn of the following day.
I repeated my warning to Queenclaw again and again, but each time she steadfastly refused to accept it. It saddened me to know that her love for Warblade was so unwavering, so blindly devoted, that she could not see his true nature.
When Queenclaw refused to heed my counsel, I spoke to everyone that I knew was loyal to her; anyone that I thought she might listen to, if not me. But so strong was their loyalty that they followed their queen without question. At other times, this unflagging devotion might have been admirable. As it was, I cursed their stubbornness.
At last, despairing, I even confronted Warblade himself, perhaps to warn him of his imminent death, or perhaps to frighten him into abandoning his plot, because it was now known.
Whatever the reason, it did not work, and if he was surprised that I knew of his plans, he did not show it. He swore persistently that he had no idea what I was talking about, and each speech or ploy that I tried was stonewalled by his insistence of his innocence.
Eventually, I gave up trying to speak with him. It was doing no one any good, and I grew angrier with each moment that I spent with him. After I left Warblade, I half expected some sort of attack against me, but there was nothing. I was sure that he already knew that the queen refused to listen to me, and so I was not worth his attention.
Time passed slowly, but it still seemed all too soon when the sun rose on that third day. That day I stuck close to Queenclaw, refusing to let her go anywhere on her own. Though I had no hope of averting the coming disaster, I would try my hardest to help my friend live through it.
When the clash came, I fought well and hard, and I believe the rebels paid dearly for their attack on the queen. But in the end, it hardly mattered.
~ At sundown, the battle was finally over. The forest was littered with the bodies of hundreds of Sneasels, Queenclaw among them. Yet there I lay, wounded, but not dead. Never dead. In truth, I almost wished for death; for a release from the horror I had seen, the pain I felt.
But instead I dragged myself up, looking sorrowfully over the bloody battlefield, and began to pick my way across the clearing. At the edge, the few surviving Sneasels huddled. There were only fifteen, all told, out of over seven hundred. Not even the smallest children had been spared.
As I neared the survivors, they bared their claws at me, most of them rough, and all of them bloodstained. "Leave us," they hissed. "We want no part with you. You bring ill fortune and death with you. Begone. Begone!"
Startled, I did as they wished; I turned and ran, ignoring the deep wounds in my side and shoulder. But as I ran, I replayed their words over and over in my mind. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps I truly was a bringer of ill luck. It was true that I could not seem to escape the catastrophe that appeared to follow me.
But maybe it didn't really follow me. Perhaps I called disaster down on everyone I met. If this was the case, it would be better for me to stay away from everyone.
My visions of death had become progressively more terrible each time. If things kept on the way they were, I could, in time, conceivably foresee the destruction of all life on earth.
At last, no longer able to run, I collapsed to the ground, weeping in sorrow, pain, and frustration. I truly was becoming my name: Calamity.
I was, in every way, disaster's child. ~