Author's Note:
I really enjoy writing about Yolei and Iori (Sorry, I just hate the name Cody for little Iori-chan). Well, actually, I like to write about all the Digidestined (Yes, even Sora), but I found myself pausing and think about how Yolei and Iori react and talk in the stories. They are special, I think so. I don't really care if you dislike Yolei for being a brat or being so boy-crazy that makes me sick (I know several friends who are like her. _) or don't appreciate the way Iori is created with a flat, bland personality. I think they are really sweet and cool in their own ways. Isn't being yourself the whole point? You should be proud to be yourself and not as someone else. You are unique and that's what is special to yourself. Who cares if no one likes the way you dress or the way you see the world differently? Who blasted cares? :) Yolei and Iori are like that; they don't give (pardon my French) a bleeding damn if they are different. ;)
That's why they are two of my whole favorites! OK, enough blabbering. Let's READ!
Oh, yeah, one thing . . .
*whispers* I do not own Digimon: Digital Monsters.
Loud enough? Ok? Jolly good.
Children of the Digital
Part Nine: Jewel and Pebble
By Debbie (Dai-chan)
At first, she thought that she was sleeping in an incredible soft cushion, and then when she woke up, she was. She was very weary, like she had worked out too much and left her body, not sore, but weak, limp. She regained her strength in her limbs and she woke up from her seemingly long and heavy slumber. It was a startled change to her, from blackness she was used to see into glaring pink that hurt her eyes instantly.
Miyako rubbed her eyes, both from tiredness and soreness, then tried again, not sure if she saw right. She saw right. Pink. Pink everywhere. There were various colors present, of course, but pink seemed to be the superior authority around here. As she gazed around, she found herself in a room that obviously was meant for a spoiled girl who loved the color pink. The walls were painted pale pink, the carpet was dark pink, and even the ceiling was painted like a pink sky. There were miscellaneous furniture covered with shades of pink, and Miyako was curled up in a thick cushioned chair in a corner. She fingered the fabric, but not felt the texture, since she wore her gloves. Still, she could imagine that the fabric might be made of silk or velvet.
Again, she looked around and found few of her friends present. Mimi was laying on a heavily decorated bed, quietly sleeping. Her green and lavender clothing seemed to clash prettily with the pinkish-white bed. Sora was here, too, slumbering peacefully on a daybed, also pink; her red and white kimono almost fit in right. And her Digimon, Hawkmon, was sitting on a footstool, a miserable and helpless expression on his face.
Miyako had to giggle at it as she stretched her limbs from the clinging slumber.
Hawkmon gave her a hurt gaze. "I have to say that it's too much pink for me."
The lavender-haired girl smiled. "You are only a male. Men can't stand pink."
"It's so cliché, Yolei," the hawk protested.
"You know it's true."
Hawkmon grinned at his girl's cheerful face. Miyako was surprised at herself lately. She remembered that she tended to panic and even cry if she was in these hopeless situations like this, but she had noticed that she was more composed, not getting scared too fast. She just thought it was probably from her experiences and friends; she was taught not to lose her composure. She just had this feeling that she will be able to find her friends, wherever they were, and she was glad to have her Protectors nearby. They will help her out, too.
"Do you know where we are?" Hawkmon questioned with a sparkle in his cobalt eyes.
Miyako gazed around and shook her head. "No. Do you?"
Hawkmon seemed to gaze at her with a knowing grin. "If we don't know where we are, I would suggest that we would go search, hmm?"
Miyako gave him a smirk, but inwardly, she knew that she needed to do something. She grew worried that her friends might be hurt or worse. The slender girl stood and went to the couch. She gently shook Sora until her amber eyes fluttered open. Miyako grinned. "Come on, wake up, sleepyhead." She then turned to Mimi.
Sora sat up, rubbing her eyes, then blinked as she took in her surroundings. She groaned, cringing. "Oh, my. Too much pink."
"See, see!" Hawkmon supported.
Miyako again gave him a look, then turned to Mimi. She was instantly worried. Mimi was just waking up, looking at the room with vague familiarity dawning in her eyes. She seemed distracted, even a bit apprehensive. Miyako seated upon the bed and asked, "Mimi, what's the matter?"
Mimi brushed back her disheveled honey hair and slowly shook her head, as if she recognized the room, but denying the reality. "This place . . ." Her voice was quiet. "I remember this. This room was used to be mine . . . when I was Princess Mimi."
Princess Mimi . . . Memories nagged in her mind, and one rose. "Oh, then we must be in Gekomon's Castle," Miyako mentioned. "Where your crest first glowed, right, Mimi?" Then she frowned at herself. Gekomon's Castle? Mimi told her about it, but it happened . . . four years ago. How did they get here?
Mimi seemed to think the same. "How did we get here?"
Miyako honestly shrugged. "Search me. I woke up here with you guys."
Sora stood up, her red kimono swaying around, and Miyako had the sudden sensation that she looked different, held power to her stance. Sora was serious as she said, "Look, we aren't getting anywhere staying here. If the others are here, we need to find them and get out."
Miyako nodded, agreeing to Sora's suggestion, but then as she looked back to Mimi, the doubtful expression on her delicate face told otherwise. Mimi was shaking her head at Sora. "I don't think anybody is here. I felt nothing here or anywhere except for your essences. We are alone."
Miyako didn't want to believe that. She didn't believe that they were alone. She had the feeling that her friends were nearby, and all she had to do was find them. But still . . . "Do you think it's odd that your Gekomon and Otamamon aren't here?" she questioned. "It's their castle, after all."
"Yes, you are right," Sora said, lightly frowning. "Maybe we could try search for them . . ."
"And even if we can't find them, I'm sure they are alright," Miyako added confidently. "I'm worried about us getting out."
Sora gave her agreement, but Mimi was silent. "Mimi-chan?" she touched the Guide's shoulder.
Mimi seemed to rouse from the touch. She then half-smiled. "I'm sorry. I had good memories of this place, but I also had bad ones."
Miyako knew her story, and she squeezed on Mimi's hand in comfort. "It's okay. We are here for you."
There was an unhappy grunt from Hawkmon as he went for the door. "Can we please leave? Pink, pink, everywhere!"
His grumbling caused a few smiles from the girls as they finally followed after him. The hallway was brief and led to a long stairway. Mimi walked in front, insisting it so she can feel any essence if there was any. Miyako was in the middle, feeling oddly protected by her Protectors. Mimi may be a delicate lady, but she had this fierceness to her stance, warning anybody not to mess with her. Sora was born a tomboy and still was; in her kimono, Sora looked like she can fight and bite. Miyako was not a fighter. She hated to fight; if she had to fight, she knew how to use words as weapons. She knew sometimes that her words can seriously wound, and she grew careful not to use her words in a wrong way. She just didn't like to fight.
Miyako glanced at the walls, which were colored pale pink, simple and clean. She wondered about this Castle Mimi once told her about. When she remembered that Mimi said she had good and bad memories, she thought she understood. Mimi said that she enjoyed being served and 'worshipped' at a time, but later, she then realized that it wasn't worth over losing her friends, especially Jyou, who she was very close to, then. Mimi told her that she felt guilty and shamed, but she was glad that they accepted her back. She thanked Sora for it. Miyako wondered if Sora had good and bad memories of this place.
"Sora," Miyako spoke over her shoulder, "do you have good memories of this place?"
The Seeker nodded, her amber eyes soft. "I remember little, but yes, they were good." Her fingers brushed back the chestnut strands framing her lightly pensive face. "They were also bad."
"Oh, Sora!" Mimi sounded surprised as she gazed back. "You were the one who helped me realize my insincerity."
"Yes, but I felt guilty for not joining you guys, remember?"
Mimi simply nodded in answer, continuing her walk.
Miyako was disgruntled. She wasn't the one who would like to listen to one's misfortunes. She liked to keep people happy, and so when she heard the words from her Protectors, she didn't like it. She didn't want to hear problems. "Gosh, can you stop talking about bad memories? It makes me feel sad."
Sora gave her a serious look. "Sure, Yolei, you do have bad memories of your adventures."
"Of course!" Miyako waved a finger for emphasis, her face otherwise solemn. "I had regrets for my mistakes, but it's useless to think about them too much. Not healthy."
A chiming laugh came from Mimi as she clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. "That's what I like about you, Yolei. You are so genuine."
Hearing that from one of her idols surprised her. Miyako blushed, shyly simpering. "I do my best."
They then went into a comfortable silence. However, Miyako had a sudden feeling that was so strange. She can't help feeling that even in this quiet, cheerful castle, there was a presence. Someone that hates. Someone that despises. Something . . . evil. At first, Miyako thought it was ridiculous; after all, she had met several forms of evil. Why would this be any different? But then, she then wondered . . . This was a different evil. An evil that was born from the heart, from the existence of a person. An evil that hates the very existence of itself. Or . . . an evil that hates the existence of its other self. It was the strangest thing she had felt.
Almost as instantly, she felt a breath behind her. It was like someone was breathing on the back of her neck and that feeling shivered her, the neck hairs standing out. The breath was like a wind coming out of nowhere, silent and stalking, and Miyako had the urge to look back.
No one was there. Miyako almost exhaled out in relief, then stopped herself when she remembered. Sora. Sora was walking behind her moments ago. There was no trace of the silver-streaked girl, only the invisible breeze that brushed against her long hair. Dead silence as she stared down the empty hall.
"Sora?" she whispered, almost afraid to break the silence. Beside her, Hawkmon had noticed what happened, sensed her troubled anxiety, and was also silent, not comprehending. When Miyako heard nothing of Sora's voice, she tried again, calling out the name. For a second, the same breeze stirred behind her, breathing on her neck, stalking and almost . . . leering.
Fright striking deep, Miyako whirled around. "Mimi!" Sure enough, as she feared, the Guide was gone. She was alone in the hallway, alone with her confused Digimon, alone with the strange breezes that seemed to laugh at her silently. However, the fright was replaced by mild ire and unhappiness. She rarely got angry, but she can get irritated easily. Her Protectors were gone, perhaps snatched from under her nose, and she felt like she was being jeered at by the provoker.
"Ok, there is something funny going on here, and it's not funny!" Miyako shouted down the hallway. She then stopped, glaring around to see if there was someone nearby cringing at her words.
"Look, Yolei!" Hawkmon touched upon her leg, pointing toward the opposite end of the hallway. She sharply glanced and got a glimpse of a moving shadow darting out of the sight. It disappeared out in the exit.
"Hey, come back here!" the girl darted down the hallway with Hawkmon flapping behind. But she abruptly stopped just before the exit, a sudden feeling striking her. Her face contorted into a guarded look.
"Yolei?" Hawkmon questioned, awaiting her answer.
Miyako bit on her lip and carefully shook her head, not sure how can she tell this. "Somehow, I feel . . . strange."
"How strange?"
Miyako lowered her gaze to him. "Like I'm being tested."
The red hawk simply raised his eyebrows in question. It wasn't that he did believe her. He just showed his concern and patience as she thought the feeling over.
Miyako shrugged, showing one of her confident smiles. "Maybe I'm wrong, but let's find Sora and Mimi!"
Hawkmon nodded, grinning. "Now, that's my girl!"
Miyako entered through the exit into a large room. Suddenly, she got the sensation of ancient life in this place. It was clearly a room used for something special, like dances or a place for people to meet. It was much plain, nothing except for a raised throne sitting at a wall. She was surprised to see such a medieval-like throne here; it was not made of rock or wood, but made of marble, grey-white and worn smooth by time. Brown and green vines and flora were everywhere, covering the throne, floor, walls; even the ceiling was covered the most, the white surface unseen. It felt like the plants were left behind by a forgetful gardener and let the plants go wild. It had the feeling of mundane mortality, giving her the hint of life and death mixed in one.
"It's old . . . " Miyako voiced. "Very old."
She began to stride forward, wondering how could that when she saw the shadow coming in here, there was clearly no one here. The throne's back was pinned to the wall, so no one can hide behind it. There was no other place to hide, unless that person was either very thin or very small. She stopped in the center, feeling very small all of a sudden in the agelessness in this place.
She gazed at the throne for a moment. She didn't know why the throne attracted her. The throne was known to bear the similar authority of a king, holding power and wisdom around the peasants. Even a throne would be impressive against regular chairs, but this throne was different. The sight of it, trapped underneath those vines, made her think of a powerful person being trapped around power and people who would do anything to get her power. Pressure. Confusion. Bondage. A leader who was afraid that she would fail her friends, her followers.
Miyako lightly frowned, stepping forward. Her left ankle was caught by something, and she glanced downward. Oddly, a vine somehow has gotten itself wrapped around her ankle, as if it was alive. Miyako knelt and, with a bit of difficulty, ripped it off. A movement stirred and she looked up. She gasped as the vines slowly stirred, much alive, curling and unwinding. Like snakes, they crept toward her, and she hurriedly stepped back.
"Yolei, get back!" Hawkmon shouted and went into an offensive stance. "Feather Slash!" He used the feather in his headband and created several feathers. Like throwing knives, he let them fly at the wiggling vines. Unbelievingly, the razor-sharp feathers couldn't cut through some of them. Some of the vines stiffened at that, curled up, seeming to be offended by the feathers, but then continued snaking toward Miyako.
With quick reflexes, the vines shoot out and bind her. It happened so fast. She could feel the vines wrapping around her waist, wrists, and limbs, binding around her like a green-bandaged mummy. The vines that held her wrists raised upward, their roots coming from the ceiling after all. Miyako couldn't pull on the vines; the plants were too strong and stiff. She kept on struggling, grunting, as a distraught Hawkmon chewed on some of the vines, using his rugged beak.
"Don't do that."
The voice was honeyed and yet full of loathing. It sounded so alike to Mimi's voice, but Miyako just knew in an instant, the voice didn't sound right. She gazed upward and regarded a Mimi twin seating in the throne. Every inch of her was Mimi, but the way she sat, her legs crossed in such a position and arms resting on the throne's arms, showed scorn and arrogance. Like an evil queen looking down to pathetic peasants. Her lips were thin, flat, as though she has never smiled, even laughed. Her hazel eyes were dark, no sparkles in them, and they were glaring down to Hawkmon.
"I despise saliva on my plants," she quietly warned Hawkmon, then turned her hazel gaze to Miyako. She visibly shivered; the eyes held lies, disdain, and she felt like that she was betrayed.
Although, Miyako forced herself to hold a wary expression. "You are not Mimi . . . " She didn't know how she could tell; the Mimi twin looked so the same to the real Mimi that it was a wonder how she can tell the difference.
The Mimi twin appeared annoyed, saying, "You are one of the only two people that I cannot deceive. I'm the Liar of Hypocrisy."
"Mimi told me about you . . ." Miyako recalled the stories Mimi told her. Mimi was hesitant to tell her, but she told her that she trusted her about her past and told her about her other self. As the old kids had the same feelings, Mimi was haunted, hurt, but She seemed relaxed, like she knew that her other self will not come back to haunt her anymore. She spoke of a dark Mimi that was the exact opposite of her, deceitful, hateful, and full of haughtiness. The dark Mimi often reminded her of the time when she was Princess Mimi and she was determined to change herself into the considerate, outgoing girl she was now.
The dark Mimi. That was her, sitting before her. Alive. "You are the dark Mimi," Miyako said, slightly easing the tension in her limbs.
The Liar held up her right index finger and waved it, slightly scowling. "Please. That 'dark Mimi' title is so unenthusiastic. I prefer the Liar."
Her fists clenched, Miyako strained against the vines, which she knew were very hard to break through. "Where are they? Mimi and Sora?"
The Liar made a scornful sneer at her useless struggles. "Girl, it's no use to get free from my vines. They are too durable. If you want to know where the Seeker and Guide are . . . I can show them."
She lazily gestured, and the ceiling seemed to crawl. Vines wiggled and skulked among each other, and soon, two pods were lowered from within the vines. Miyako gasped as she saw her Protectors trapped inside the pods. Vines were tightly wrapped around their limbs, preventing any possible escape. Vines covered their mouths, making them unable to speak, but they were aware, the amber and hazel eyes full of fright and hatred, fright toward Miyako and hatred toward the Liar.
"Mimi! Sora!" Fueled by her fright for them, Miyako continued struggling as Hawkmon moved forward in a reflex of protection.
He was stopped by the Liar's warning voice. "Make another step, bird, and I will squeeze the life out of them." She simply smiled as a vine simply crept around the Guide's neck for effect. Hawkmon stopped in his tracks, but his cobalt eyes were ablaze toward the Liar.
"What do you want from them?" Miyako demanded, giving up on the vines.
The Liar stood up in a mock grace and shrugged. "Simple revenge." She began to descend the stairs.
"Revenge? Why?"
"I do not have to explain everything to you," the Liar said as she arrived beside the lavender-haired girl. Miyako again felt icy shivers as the dark hazel eyes glared at her. There was a mixed look of disgust and amusement and Miyako felt like she was being inspected. "The Mistress of Purity, huh?" the Liar wondered, placing her hand under her chin. "Not very pure to me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Let me explain what a mistress is. A mistress is known as a female leader, a woman with authority to lead her people. Very few women are honored with the title. But . . ." Miyako mentally shuddered as the Liar leered, her hazel eyes lazily half-opened. "A mistress is also a whore, chosen to keep her man satisfied."
The lavender-haired girl was suddenly speechless, staring back. How . . . how . . . How dare her . . . How dare her to taint her given title! The dun eyes narrowed into an action of pure fury, the grey-tan color burning with inferno. "How dare you!" Miyako spitted, darting forward in order to slap that sneering girl before her. The vines held her fast, her contorted face several inches away from that scornful sneer. Miyako strained against the vines, her fury seething.
The Liar didn't flinch from the rage, as she should have, instead leering, the hazel eyes still half-closed. "That makes me wonder . . . Would that mean you are a mistress to all the male Digidestined, or perhaps the mistress of the Master?"
The Mistress wouldn't say anything; she would be more than happy to give the Liar a hard slap across her face to get rid of that sneer, but she was bound and helpless. Not even her skills with fierce words could help her; it would only satisfy the Liar further.
Her Digimon stepped in front, his serenity breaking down, replaced by the wrath of protection. He glared toward the Liar, cawing, "Yolei is nothing like that! She is humane and caring."
The Liar gave him a scornful gaze and shrugged. "And your point being?"
Hawkmon's voice dropped to a warning tone. "If you do not let her go, I can grant you that it's not a nice sight to see a mad bird."
It came so fast that Miyako didn't comprehend the speed of it. The Liar somehow took it as a threat and sharply gestured toward Hawkmon. Suddenly after, Hawkmon was slapped in his head by a thrashing vine. An ugly welt appeared on his cheek, but Hawkmon didn't cringe at the pain. Instead, fire burst in his eyes and he bound for the Liar. Miyako was simultaneously angry and shocked as she helplessly watched her Digimon brawling with the Liar. The Dark Mimi used her dark power to withstand Hawkmon while he wildly beat his wings like an untamed hawk.
"Liar, allow me. Hush of Wind!"
A breeze tickled on her neck and Miyako stiffened as a powerful gust followed after, passing her, playing with her hair. The gust was colored strangely. It was like blood formed into winds that gave out strange warmth, like a desert, humid draft. The gust was aimed for Hawkmon. He was caught in the drafts and disappeared out of sight somewhere in the thick, tangled vines.
The Liar cast the vanished Hawk a scornful gaze and gazed past Miyako. "About time you arrived," she voiced to the hidden person behind and then gave the lavender haired girl a hot glare. She turned around sharply and went to sit upon the throne.
Miyako felt something behind her, a stare that radiated great hatred. Not like the Liar's hatred, which shivered her, but a hatred that hated the very existence of her. She felt that hatred when the wind touched her and grabbed her Protectors away. Instead of cowering against the stare, Miyako remained unmoving, her own anger slightly seething. She was perturbed, mad at the Liar and whoever cast the stare for mocking her, for daring to hurt her Protectors. She was pushed too far and she was livid. No one will dare to mock her again . . .
Someone came in her vision, and Miyako recognized her immediately as Sora. However, as Miyako suspected so, it was not Sora. It was the dark Sora, the Thief of Hatred, her pretty face showing eager hunger that almost scared her. A disdainful grin flashed, and the Thief made a tsking sound as her amber eyes turned to the Liar.
"You roused her temper, Liar," the Thief's voice rang, almost giggling with madness. "Not very nice." When the Liar scoffed at her words, the Thief shrugged and turned toward Miyako. Her grin widened as Miyako just stared back with molten ire. "Hello, young Mistress. I'm the Thief of Hatred and I'm here to hate you."
Her hand shot out and touched Miyako's face. Strangely, the touch was gentle and light, but Miyako stiffened at it, keeping on glaring back. The Thief cocked her head as if was studying her. "Ah, so pretty, so dominant, so . . . insolent." She dropped her touch and turned to the Liar. "It's so sad that – "
Miyako's voice almost drawled as if she was bored, barely controlling her rage underneath, "Is that all you do, disgracing me? I already know who I am, so you are wasting your time."
The Thief glanced at her in mild surprise, then sniggered devilishly. "Oooh! Clever girl, isn't she, Liar?"
The Liar said nothing, glaring directly to Miyako.
Suddenly, in an astonishing speed, the Thief's face was inches away from Miyako's face. She tensed, gasping, feeling the hot breath tickling on her cheek. The amber eyes were no longer sneering, but bold and threatening. "Of course, I'm disgracing you, girl," her voice almost hissed. "That's what we dark selves are here for."
Miyako dared to glare back. "You are not my dark self."
The Thief rolled her eyes upward in thought. "True, true." Then she grinned slyly. "I just want to take this chance before I take my revenge on my sweet sister."
"Why do you disgrace them? What is the point?"
The Thief stepped back, making a wide shrug. "Because it's fun." Her gaze shifted downward and fastened on the rose-red crest on Miyako's chest. Feeling an urge to hide her crest from the horrible disdained gaze, Miyako shifted, trying to move her chest, but the vines held tight.
"Such a pretty crest. I would like to have one of those. That rude Seeker stole mine." Then she giggled, as if was laughing at her joke. "Funny, isn't it, that the Seeker stole my crest?" Miyako said nothing, and the Thief shrugged. "Oh, well . . ."
Suddenly, her hand darted forward and, with a sharp motion, ripped off the necklace and crest.
"Hey, give it back!" Miyako yelled, again straining against the hold as the Dark Sora moved back.
"No." The Thief hungrily fingered the crest. "The Crest of Purity. A powerful crest." She stepped close, grinning. "Purity doesn't fit you at all. You are simply too bratty for it."
The Mistress couldn't handle the boiling rage and she desired to wipe that damn smirk off. She did. She spitted at her. The slobber slid down from the Thief's cheek, the look of total anger and surprise satisfying her rage for a moment. The Thief silently wiped it off and grinned rascally.
"Oh, you do have guts, little Mistress." A hard slap across Miyako's face shook her in pain and she bit her lip from screaming out. The Thief growled, "Never, ever do that again."
"Leave her alone!"
Miyako remained still, seething silently, as Hawkmon, who has woken from his brief unconsciousness, came to fight with the Thief. The Liar simply sat on the throne, looking bored to death, as the Thief laughed with dark delight, casting tornadoes and gusts to shove the Hawk away, playing with him. The sight of her Digimon being played with, the sight of her Protectors hanging helplessly among the holding vines . . . it angered her. No one dared to mock her. No one. No one will dare disgrace her. She knew that she was worthy. Her battles showed that. Her friends showed that. The Digiworld showed that.
She wanted to save her Protectors. She wanted to teach the . . . crones a lesson that the Mistress of Purity will not be ridiculed. She felt something new inside her. A spirit that was cool to the touch, a pleasant coldness like cold water running down her body. She felt clean, felt pure. She felt whole. She felt ready . . . She was Purity, here to radiate the truth and love she had for her friends . . . An Armor Child . . .
The Mistress's dun eyes closed and the words spoke out from her mouth without force, smooth and serene.
"Heart-Armor, Energize!"
The Thief cried out in absolute agony as the crest in her hand smoldered with purity. She dropped the glowing crest, grasping her burning hand.
A new aura, feeling cool in the touch, radiated outward from her body. It was the same color as her crest, a beautiful, soft red, like a newborn rose blooming its beauty. Emerald-green streaks waved among the red aura, sparkling like real gems.
Soft breezes began whistling around her, playing with her clothes, hair, the very air seeming to create out from her aura. Her clothes seem to transform in sight. The red, blue, and tan uniform that she once wore materialized into exquisite garments that unmasked the hidden magnificence she bore. The uniform she wore had the strong appearance of the usual Indian garment wore by female dancers. A midriff covered her upper chest, strapless and tight, colored dark red with a unique kind of white sequins sewn on the edges that were hidden but sparkled nevertheless. The symbol of the Crest of Purity was traced upon her chest, colored pale pink. The flowing pants were also dark red, loose and swaying in motion. A gossamer skirt was tied around her waist, silky and flowing. The fabric was white, very clear and transparent. Greek-style sandals were worn, white, its strips tied around her calves. Silver bracelets were added to her wrists for power, making no sound as they glistened inaudibly. A grand tiara rested upon her head, the silver metal gleaming among her long lavender hair. Her oval eyeglasses were gone, as well.
Because her friends truly cherished her, she was called as Jewel.
The breezes dissolved and, still bound by the vines, Jewel stood in her new stance, unruffled and dominant. The Thief and Hawkmon halted their fight and gawked at her as the Liar bristled up, scowling. Then Jewel's voice, as smooth as a rose petal and as piercing as a rose thorn, spoke.
"Let go of me."
The vines abruptly stiffened, as if by her icy touch, then went limp, slumped to the ground, releasing the Mistress. Her hands slowly closed into fists and the red aura slid down to the fists, forming something. She summoned her weapons, unusual and yet effective. Two Japanese fans appeared in the fists, closed and colored white. The left fist came up to her face and, with a flick of her waist, the fan spread widely, revealing an image of a red phoenix soaring on the white background. Its gold eyes seemed to glow with an inner light.
The Thief bared her teeth and wildly gestured toward the Mistress with the words, "Hush of Wind!" As the violent blood-red squall thrust for her, Jewel suddenly moved her body as if was dancing, bending and twirling, opening the other fan. The hands came together, the fans seeming to form a white disk in front of her. Suddenly, the fans spread, expanding, until they become an unyielding, smooth shield as big as her. The gust almost hissed as it crashed against the fan. Jewel seemed not to lose her composure, her body still, as the gust faded from the impact.
Jewel turned toward the Thief and flashed the fan with the phoenix. "Fushichou!" A light seemed to shine across the fan, making the painted phoenix coming into life. And sure enough, it was alive. The phoenix leaped out from the fan, cooing proudly, its feathers like fire. It soared and glided around the Thief, its long tail feathers cast real fire, burning her skin, clothes, and hair. The Thief screamed as her vision was nothing but fire and golden eyes that glowed from within.
The fire was special; it harmed only the ones with dark hearts.
A flash of red against orange, and the Thief whirled to see Jewel standing among the fire, calm and her dun-grey eyes like mirrors, reflecting the blazes. Her hand with the blank fan rose up and suddenly, with another twist of her wrist, spikes sprung out from within the fabric. The decorative fans were now weapons. Her heart weapons.
The Thief's mouth only half formed the word 'No' before Jewel ended her hatred. As a faint groan drifted out from Sora, the Thief's body dissolved, pixels drifting past Jewel, but Jewel paid no attention. She only smiled slightly as the phoenix returned to its guard upon the killer fan, the fire vanishing.
Jewel turned smoothly to face the Liar, who was standing up, frowning darkly. The phoenix fan closed and the other fan unfolded, revealing a tiny green-tinted hummingbird gliding in midair.
"You are truly the Mistress," the Liar's voice floated, not mocking nor insolent, but sincere. Then her lips cracked into a sneer. "But think about it. Are you truly pure when you are thinking about killing me?"
Jewel's lips also curled, into a knowing smile. "Why should I believe you? You are only a liar. Hachidori!"
With a chirp, the hummingbird darted out from the fan, fluttering around the Liar. Angered, the Liar fought with her vines, trying to cast away the annoying pest. But the hummingbird was too swift and too small to be touched. With its long beak, it sharply pecked and pierced her skin, drawing blood. The Liar gave infuriated cries and tried to swat it, but to no avail.
Silently, Jewel stepped in behind the Liar, the spiked fan raising. Just then, the Liar stiffened, sensing her presence, and whirled around to defend herself. Jewel only gave her a pitying glance before she cast the death blow. The hummingbird gave out a strange chirp that seemed to overlap Mimi's weak groan and returned to its position upon the blank fan.
The serene light in Jewel's eyes faded, replaced by dawning surprise. She stared down to the open fans, which spikes were still sprung out. Even though there was no blood on the tips, she shuddered at the thought of actual blood that might be stained on the metal spikes if she was to kill a person. She was able to kill. She has hurt, has harmed, and has killed. Even her clothes were of the color of red, not blood-red, but nevertheless red. Sparkles appeared around her, glowing like red stars, coming over her clothes and armor. The sparkles vanished the fans away, along with the tiara, sparkling for the last time before leaving her lavender hair free. Jewel knelt down, silent, confused and slightly shocked, only to respond when her Digimon arrived to her side.
"Miyako . . ." Hawkmon had a strange light in his cobalt eyes, seeming to be deep respect and awe for her. A glint from his wing-hand, and the Crest of Purity dangled from it. The rose color seemed to glow beautifully, again making Miyako feeling homely in appearance. Yet, the color urged her and she gently took it in her hands.
Hawkmon was smiling. "Words cannot describe how proud I am of you." He bestowed her a graceful bow. Miyako felt her eyes misting and, as a little girl, pulled her Digimon in her arms. Hawkmon had gotten used to her many hugs, but the gentle and thankful hug surprised him and he simply smiled as he returned it.
Miyako felt a hand on her arm and looked up to Mimi's hazel gaze. Mimi knelt by and smiled. "Thank you, thank you for saving us." She must've released herself and Sora from the vines. Sora also knelt by her, her face soft and concerned.
Miyako let go of Hawkmon and shook her head, still thinking of the spikes. "But . . . but I killed them. I killed."
"You don't need to worry about that," Sora reassured her. "They weren't real."
"They were to me."
"Yolei, you do understand that they are part of us. They will never go away unless we die. They exist as long as we exist."
Miyako wrapped her arms, remembering the Liar's scornful leer and the Thief's hungry grin. "But you told me that they were gone. How did they get back alive?"
"That's what I like to know," Mimi muttered, frowning. "There must be a way for them to wake through."
The Mistress ran her hand through her hair. "They said they wanted to have revenge on you for destroying them."
Sora cast a troubled grimace. "Perhaps it's the doing of Vampdevimon, or the Final Evil, to let our dark selves become alive again."
The green-clad girl shrugged her hands. "But how?"
The Hawk Digimon, who was silent the whole time, cleared his throat. "I think I know." He then turned and wandered to where the former Thief and Liar last stood. He seemed to pick up something.
Miyako stood up and walked to him. "Hawkmon, what did you find?"
Hawkmon looked at her, then to the older Digidestined. "Maybe your dark selves possessed these?"
Miyako noticed two dolls in his wing-hands. They looked so exactly the same to Mimi and Sora. They look plush and were detailed down to their eyes. Somehow, the everlasting grins shuddered her; for a moment, she thought the Thief and the Liar were sneering back.
Mimi stared at them with wide eyes. "Oh . . ." A shaking hand took the Mimi doll, she looking at it with disbelief. "It's unbelievable, but it's real . . ."
"What's it, Mimi?" Miyako questioned.
"Remember when I told you about Puppetmon's dolls?" She gestured toward the dolls. "These are them, the dolls he used to control our bodies."
Miyako stared at her, then down to the doll. "You told us that the dolls looked like you from four years ago. The dolls can't be changed . . . can they?"
"The dolls are the same," Sora mentioned, frowning down to her Sora doll. "Perhaps they do age like we do. That explains it. Hawkmon is right. The Final Evil must have used the dolls for our dark selves to possess, other bodies for them to use."
"So, it's not a surprise that the other dolls are probably possessed by the Dark Digidestined."
Sora nodded toward Miyako's words. "That's why we are separated, so the Final Evil 'removes' us out of its way."
"Her," Mimi murmured, a faint anxious expression on her face. "I think the Final Evil is a she. She must be the 'mother' Vampdevimon was talking about."
Sora said nothing, her only other response was an uncertain grimace.
Her dun eyes glanced to her Protectors, seeing the troubles happening in them. Miyako then glanced down to her crest, which she still held in her hand. She wasn't surprised to see that the crest was still glowing dimly. Remembering what the Old Kids said about the crests, the crest might have something to tell, something that she needed to regard. When she looked at the crest, she felt a tugging in her mind, telling her to look around carefully.
She did so, standing up and scanned the surroundings of the walls, flora, and the marble throne. Why didn't she notice it? The longer she stared around, the easier to notice a haze among the vision. It was hard to capture a direct sight on the haze; the haze seemed to ripple and vanish whenever she tried to look directly at it. But the haze was there, nevertheless. She felt like she was looking through an opaque window.
A memory.
She didn't know how she knew, but it was. A memory remembered by either one of her Protector. And a strong urge in her that insisted to leave. It was dangerous to remain. The haze was getting worse, growing thicker, and Miyako frowned. She knew how to get out.
Miyako turned to her Protectors. "Listen, I believe we must leave this place. We need to find the others. Once we find the others, we will have to find a safe place so we can plan against the Final Evil and find out why she does such things to us." Just then, she recalled that her voice has held the voice of authority, certainty. It startled her.
Sora was grinning with amazement. "You know, you are sounding like Tai."
Miyako blinked. "I am?" Her cheeks reddened, not out of embarrassment, but out of the warmth she received from Sora. Respect.
Mimi gave out a light laugh as she stood. Thought, her voice was serious. "Now, Mistress, do you know how to find the others?"
"No, but I know a way out." She gestured toward the surroundings. "This place is not real, but only a memory, your memories. I can get you out." From her silent command, her crest's glow brightened. It shone a beam, toward a direction, and the beam appeared to shine upon the air, not in the air. The beam widened and formed an oval-shaped hole. Hole was the right word to describe it. The hole opened up, revealing an entirely different scene, a grey-colored beach with two high rock-shelves and crashing black waters. Two light shone from the faint lighthouses: white and black.
The girls regarded it for a moment. "That's where we were the whole time?" Mimi questioned.
Miyako nodded. "Yes, and we need to go there. It's a safe place." Though, she pondered why Hawkmon held the uneasiness on his face.
Sora took a glance at the beach, then nodded to her ward. "Ok, let's go."
As the Mistress led, the Guide and the Seeker exchanged each other proud grins. The once energetic boy-crazed lavender-haired girl has became the Mistress, the new leader of the New Kids.
***
He was already awake, and when he woke up, he found himself in the strangest place he'd ever been. It was even stranger than the 'Dreamworld' that Malomyotismon once called. While the Dreamworld had a sense of direction, this place had no absolute sense of direction. He couldn't tell if he was floating upright or upside-down or even sideways. He only was able to manage to keep his friends in his vision, staying upright or at least in the same direction they were floating. The place was colored maroon, a bit of purple mixed in with spots of green, yellow, and orange. He couldn't touch it; the seeming invisible walls were too far. Or perhaps, there were no walls, and he was floating aimlessly.
Iori's stoic face lightly frowned as he observed the area he was trapped in. He only supposed that there was no way out, since there were no boundaries that he could see. He assumed that he was in a kind of space, much like outer space with no gravity and no sense of direction, but it was different because he was breathing. He noticed that, beside him and his present friends, there was a solid object here. A lake. He knew that his eyes weren't tricking him. The lake looked like that it was dug out by a giant and left behind floating in space. The lake still had its shores and few trees, but otherwise, that was it. Water wasn't floating out, but instead stayed where it should be, which meant the lake should have gravity.
He didn't panic; he had a lot of patience and not many things can provoke him easily (except sometimes Daisuke's idiotic attitude). He wasn't afraid, and he knew he should. He was a kid and kids should be scared of something. The only fears he had was the fear of the ocean and small spaces. Here, there were no directions, and while he should feel scared, he rather felt relaxed and unruffled, compared with his friends.
He couldn't help it but faintly smiling as his Digimon made a comical effort to fly gracefully. Armadillomon laughed as his efforts sent him spinning lazily past Iori. His drawling voice spoke, "I have to admit it - flying is the way to go!"
Iori shook his head at him and turned to glance at Jyou. Jyou was calm, too, but he appeared worried, perhaps for the missing Digidestined. His long hair formed a blue-black halo around his head. His dusky eyes darted around the limitless space and then to Iori. His voice held the faintest tone of worry. "I think we all are okay."
Iori only stared back, then spoke softly, "What about the others? Should we search for them?"
"Hmm . . ." Jyou crossed his arms, the motion sending him slowly rotating toward upside-down. "First, we need to find our whereabouts, and then find the others."
"Vademon."
Iori's emerald eyes darted toward Koushiro, who was floating a close distance away. Iori noticed the big change in him since he woke up in the space. Koushiro appeared to recognize the place and he suddenly grew dark and guilty as he stared out of nowhere. He hadn't spoken one word since.
"What?" Jyou said, also worried for him.
The blackish-brown eyes gazed to them, holding shame, and that puzzled Iori. "Vademon. We are in Vademon's Universe."
Vademon, Vademon . . . Iori recalled Koushiro's stories. Vademon, an alien Digimon that 'stole' Koushiro's curiosity and left him floating in space. Koushiro mentioned that he had no feelings, no sensation. He felt no concern, no worry. Just bliss. That was when Koushiro was so horrified that he tried hard to forget about how expressionless he could become and tried his best to express his genuine feelings.
Jyou knew about his stories and he frowned. "I thought it was destroyed."
"I thought so," Koushiro agreed, grimacing as he glanced at his surroundings. "This is exactly what I recalled."
With hand motions, Iori lowered himself toward the lake, saying, "Maybe we can find the others on the lake. Since we know where we are now."
Jyou nodded, also following him. "Right. We won't find anything else around here."
"The lake is not what I remembered," Koushiro protested, not moving from his spot. He cast the lake a doubtful gaze.
Jyou bit his lip and Iori saw the deep anxiety in the tension. "We could find something there, Izzy."
Koushiro still appeared hesitant, but perhaps, seeing the logic in going to the lake, he followed. The boys and Armadillomon 'flew' to the lake, the sight getting bigger and wider. Iori felt a pulling on his body and assumed that the lake's gravity was drawing them closer. With some effort, they managed to stand upon the sandy shores. There was nothing around, nothing but crystal-blue waters, tan-white sands, and looming trees. The lake was a beautiful sight, but Iori felt an uncertainty about it. Like it wasn't real.
Jyou spoke out loud his thoughts, " I guess we are alone here." He turned to them, shrugging, "I don't really want to separate us in our search . . ."
"Then don't," Koushiro's voice seemed to made out of stomping stones, firm and booming in sensation. "It's foolish for us to get separated."
The voice somewhat startled Jyou and he stared at the Warder with more worry. Koushiro appeared to ignore the look, frowning at the lake and space around. Iori silently walked up to him and placed fingers lightly on his arms. "Izzy, why are you so upset?"
Koushiro did notice him, then sighed, his hand rubbing his neck. He looked, suddenly, worn-out and scared. "I apologize. I had dire memories here . . . It was the first time that I felt helpless, felt that I couldn't do anything to help or protect Tentomon and my friends. It was also that I realized that I was ignoring my friends when they needed my help the most. That's why I had to stop being selfish and think more of the others."
Iori tilted his head, his short sierra-brown hair brushing against his forehead. "I don't think you were selfish or even now."
Koushiro gave him a soft smile; the smile that his friends usually got. "You are sensible, Cody, to see through me. It's just that I was afraid that no one would understand why I was distant. I just feared to open myself to them."
Iori heard a rustling and Jyou was at Koushiro's side, also smiling softly. "Izzy, I feel similar to what you feel. I was afraid that no one would see through the whining Jyou and find trust in me. I did my best to be trustworthy, but it was very hard when I freaked out whoever anybody suggested a dangerous path or someone got hurt. I want to show my reliability, being the oldest one, but I ended up looking moronic and ridiculous."
Iori noticed a change in Koushiro. He was changing his smile into a lighthearted one, the one that he earned after his hardships. "Sometimes, I thought you liked to panic."
Jyou cast him a hurt gaze, but still, he chuckled, being used to being the butt of jokes.
However, Iori felt uneasy. He didn't get it why his Protectors were so scared. He looked up to them, saw them as great role models. He often saw them as his second fathers and held their teachings cherished. He often saw them in action, Koushiro giving suggestions and orders that seemed to save people's lives every time and Jyou using his logic and skills to keep people safe from danger. Very rarely, did he see them being scared, and it only happened when he faced Black Wargreymon. He knew that they were afraid for him, but not afraid for themselves.
Armadillomon read his thoughts; he always did. His voice was oddly puzzled and serious, "Not that I don't mind hearing about your troubles, but why did you tell us about yours?"
Jyou made a shrugging motion. "Maybe it was just bad memories . . ."
"Did you feel that way when you faced your dark selves?" Iori knew it was just a statement, but like Koushiro, he was curious and he often used words to see the reactions. He wasn't surprised that his Protectors were suddenly silent. Their eyes were suddenly dark and closed and their bodies appeared to increase in tension.
Koushiro spoke, but off the subject, "I'm going over there." He strode toward the right shore.
"Izzy, what're you doing?" Jyou demanded. "We can't leave each other."
The redhead didn't even look back as he continued, "Don't worry. I'm just inspecting on the shore on the way. You can see me from your position." Sure enough, Iori's eyes followed the departing figure. It would be near to impossible for him to disappear unless he chose to fly away from the lake. The trees didn't even offer a decent hiding place.
" . . . I suppose so . . ." Jyou didn't sound certain. He glanced to the left shore and turned to Iori. "Cody, you stay here with Armadillomon. I will go that way."
Iori stared at him with disbelief. "Wait, Joe, why can't I go with you?"
"I don't want you to get hurt."
"I won't get hurt," Iori frowned at him. Why, all of a sudden, was Jyou treating him like a child?
Jyou gave him a firm look. "Just stay here until we return. We won't take long." He turned to depart among on the left shore.
Iori gazed at him for a moment, and then crossed his arms. A reddening appeared in his cheeks. "Why do I feel like I'm in the way?"
Armadillomon sat down, grinning. "Don't think that way, Iori-chan. They just want you to be safe."
Iori sat down, hard. "Because I'm only a child."
"Cody . . ."
Iori waved a hand, smiling faintly. "I'm sorry. I do feel like that I'm in the way because I'm the youngest."
"Cody, you do have the same strength and wisdom as they do. I think being a child is better than being an adult." Armadillomon crossed his arms and made a face. "Think of the things you have to worry over! Work, bills, money!" He then grinned, winking and waving a claw. "Cherish your time as a child, ok?"
Iori faintly smiled. He knew that Armadillomon was a great source for encouragement. Armadillomon encouraged him to take risks, for he said, 'how will you learn if you don't take risks?' Iori nodded, but the reddening remained. "Still, I wish they don't have to treat me as a child."
Armadillomon gave him an understanding expression. "That, I agree."
Iori looked up toward his Protectors to see what they were doing. To his disbelief, they were gone. He hastily came to his feet, again looking around, hoping that he was mistaken. He wasn't. Koushiro and Jyou were gone. Their footsteps leading from him were the only traces that they were present. "Look, they are gone."
Armadillomon grunted, suspiciously. "How did they disappear in thin air?"
Iori cupped around his mouth and shouted, "Joe! Izzy!" He frowned, trying to figure the possibilities out. "It's strange . . ." The trees were a bad place to hide. They probably weren't stupid to leave up into the space, and they had no ability in their powers to vanish in midair. Where the heck were they?
He felt his Digimon tensing. Armadillomon had his emerald eyes darting around. If he had fur, it would be standing up stiff. He sounded guarded and uncertain. "I think there is someone here. Neither Joe nor Izzy. Someone else."
"Where?"
The Shelled Digimon moved his gaze to the lake water. "In there."
Of course . . . Jyou and Koushiro would be in the water, but if Armadillomon was right and there was someone else beside them here . . . Vademon? It could be possible. He couldn't think of someone else that could be here . . . His curiosity stirred and he found himself walking slowly toward the shore.
"Cody, be careful," Armadillomon hissed, knowing that he wanted to go with him, but uncertainty has rooted him to the ground.
The boy gave him a reassuring nod and arrived to the shore. The water wasn't moving, showing no trace of someone. He crouched, amazed with the water. He didn't know how can he tell, but he noticed that the water appeared sickly. Not oily nor dirty, but sickly. Like the lake was sick of something. His hand slowly came down to the surface, curious to touch the sickly water.
The water moved. A tiny tentacle of water came out like a snake, snaking toward the hand. Iori gasped at the suddenness and stepped back, falling down on his rear. The tentacle then vanished into the water.
Armadillomon was at his side. "Cody! What's happening?"
Iori stared at the calm water, waiting for the water-snake to come out. But nothing happened. He stood up, brushing away sand. "You are right, Armadillomon. There is someone here."
Still, his curiosity kept him from leaving. He kept staring at the water. He wondered how the water-snake came to be. Was it truly alive or a manifestation of Jyou's power? Or of someone else's power? He wanted to touch the water, wanted to see the snake again . . .
"It's not very wise to do that, Teacher."
Iori froze at the voice. He recognized it as Koushiro's voice, but it bore a tone of mockery and scorn. It wasn't like Koushiro's at all. Koushiro would never show scorn to anybody. The voice sounded wrong. He whirled around to find the person. He noticed a figure sitting on a fallen log several meters away. It was Koushiro, but the way he sat was so different. He sat cross-legged, an elbow on one of his knee so he can rest his chin on a hand. The black eyes were piercingly dark, darker than the real Koushiro's eyes. He appeared bored, but Iori could see the disdain in his posture. Iori immediately knew that that Koushiro wasn't the real one, but only the same appearance of him. He seemed to hold a dark aura around him, Iori feeling fear from it as he felt it from a Dark Digimon.
The Dark Koushiro then shrugged as he continued, "But, of course, you are only a child. You wouldn't understand."
Armadillomon frowned. "Izzy?"
"No, Armadillomon . . ." Iori shook his head at him, then looked at the dark Koushiro intently. He tried to recall of something that might identify the dark boy. His memories buzzed through and a name appeared in his mind. The Fool of Ignorance. The dark self of Koushiro, the Koushiro that has gone bad.
"You are the Fool, right?" Iori asked, trying to stay calm.
The Fool stared back, then slowly lowered his hand on his lap. He tilted his head and grinned. "Yes, I am."
"I thought you are dead. Izzy told me that."
The Fool made a brief scoff and chuckled. "Me, dead? That's so ignorant of the Warder." He gazed back with sleepy boredom. "Let me tell you this, Teacher. When the light lives, so does the dark. I cannot be dead if the Warder lives. We are part of each other." He managed to look annoyed. "You really want to continue this nonsense philosophy?"
The Teacher remained silent, not sure what to do. The only thing on his mind was the whereabouts of his Protectors. He doubted that the Fool will answer his question, but he had to try. "Then why are you here? Where are Joe and Izzy?"
The Fool did answer. "You will see them in time. The reason why I'm here is I'm here for my revenge." There was faint anger in his voice. "That Warder let his friends destroyed me and lived like nothing happened. He must know that I cannot be killed. I'm here to teach him a lesson. But . . ." He grinned. "I think I can wait. I will enjoy fighting you, Teacher."
Iori was taken back. "Fight me?"
Armadillomon growled at the Fool. "You don't dare."
"It doesn't concern you," the Fool quietly warned, then gazed at the boy. "If you want to save your Protectors, you will fight me. That's how it goes."
Iori hesitated. Of course, he hesitated. He didn't want to fight! There must be another way to free his Protectors. He wanted to know where they were, but the Fool said he will see them soon. Why did he feel like he was being tested? Why did he feel like that he was mocked, teased, just because he was a child? He was a child, nevertheless, and his childlike innocence urged him to get away. No need to fight. There will be a way to find them.
He watched as the dark Koushiro lazily stretched, shrugging. "Though, I have to give it a second thought. I can easily defeat a child like you."
Iori's face suddenly contorted into a bold frown. "Even a child has the power to banish the darkness." When he finished saying it, he was astonished. What made him say that? He tried to find what happened to him, but the firmness, the boldness in him faded away, giving no understanding why or how he said it.
The Fool had his eyebrows raised, slightly amused. "Such powerful wisdom from a child." He again pulled himself into the cross-legged position. "Well, for now, I choose to watch you, little Teacher. Plus, there is someone that you should meet." He gestured toward the lake.
Iori turned to see the dark Jyou walking on the surface. He knew it was the dark Jyou because Jyou didn't walk so arrogantly. The wistful face was leering with eagerness and disdain as the dusky eyes bore deep in Iori's gaze, giving the hint that he will be very happy to harm him.
The Fool gave out a chuckle. "I should've known. He likes to make grand entrances."
The dark Jyou stopped several feet away from the shore and cast the Fool a glare that Iori was surprised that the Fool wasn't burned into hot ashes by now. "And you have a problem with that, Fool?"
The Fool just smiled back and shifted into a more comfortable position.
The dark Jyou made a wide bow, somehow mocking Jyou's grace. That angered Iori. "Hello, Teacher. I'm the Betrayer."
"I know who you are," Iori said bluntly.
The Betrayer blinked and chuckled. "You must be very bold to face that way, or perhaps just stupid."
"Where are they?"
"What?"
"Where are Joe and Izzy?" Iori almost hissed in demand.
"You want to see them?" the Betrayer showed surprised disgust as he glanced to the Fool. The Fool shrugged in answer, and Betrayer made a shudder. Iori wasn't sure if the Betrayer wasn't doing it for show, but it was obvious that the Betrayer was sick of the goodness and protection Iori had. He gestured toward the water underneath.
He saw two large tentacles, the twin of the tiny water-snake, rising from the water. He saw two people in them. Jyou and Koushiro! Jyou was trapped in a tentacle, pushing his hands against the surface, unable to break through. Iori's only gladness for him was that Jyou was able to breathe underwater or he would've been drowned by now. His concern deepened when he looked at Koushiro. The Betrayer obviously knew that Koushiro had the ability to shock him with his lightning and therefore, Koushiro was knocked out cold to avoid it. Only, Koushiro's head was visible from the water, his eyes closed.
"Like my trophies?" The Betrayer grinned. Iori unconsciously stepped back, but was stopped by the Betrayer's sudden sharp gaze. "You better stop right there or I won't be happy when I destroy them."
" . . . Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you want to destroy them?" Iori found his calmness and stood still, keeping the dark boys in his sight, speaking and scanning for a way to free his Protectors at the same time. "As we know, light cannot live without darkness, and darkness cannot live without light, either. If you destroy them, both of you will be destroyed, too."
The Betrayer almost laughed with dark delight. "Not this time. When we were first 'born', the Seer gave us bodies of flesh. Because of that, we were mortal, vulnerable to death. But now the Final Evil, bless her soul, gave us new bodies, possible for us to exist without our so-called good selves. We are finally free."
"It's impossible," Armadillomon frowned.
"Anything is possible," was the Fool's lazy answer.
Iori made a sincere grimace as he kept his emerald gaze on the Betrayer. "If it's true, why do you want to destroy them? What is the point of this?"
"Young boy, that's how we live by," the Betrayer answered. "When they dedicate their lives to do good, help people, all those mushy stuff, we simply do the opposite. That's how Life is, and nothing you do will change that. I thought you are were enough to realize that." The Betrayer gave him an interesting look; it was the expression of light puzzlement with faint disapproval. He then shrugged, leaning against the tentacle that held Koushiro. "I suppose you are nothing but a naive child."
Somehow, the simple word of 'child' flinched Iori. He didn't get it. Why should he feel shame that he was a child? Maybe it was because his friends still saw him as a child and treated him as a child. He wanted to prove that he wasn't just a child, but a Digidestined. He was chosen for a reason and he wanted to show that reason to them.
His Digimon growled warningly. "Do not underestimate him." Then he yelped out in pain and Iori whirled around, seeing a tiny bolt bouncing off his shell. Armadillomon was closer to the Fool and the Fool had found him an easy target. The dark Koushiro was standing up, grinning with faint delight. "Simmer down, Digimon. We are only starting." With his pointing finger, he cast a small bolt that again bounced off the thick shell. However, Armadillomon cowered at that, feeling the heat from it.
"No, stop it!" Iori cried out. Suddenly, he felt coldness from behind and then around him. Sudden wetness and iciness encircled around him and, looking down, he saw that he was captured by a water tentacle. He gasped as the tentacle lift him by his waist, away from his Digimon and nearer to the Betrayer. "Let me go!" He pounded on the tentacle, hoping to break through, but the water surface was as hard as rock.
"No." The Betrayer grinned. "How sweet, three trophies."
"Do no hurt my brother," the Fool mentioned, gazing at him with firmness. "I want my piece." When the Betrayer simply scowled at him, he sneered and quickly dodged out of the way of Armadillomon's Diamond Shell Attack. The Fool had the same abilities as Koushiro, being swift and having advanced jumping skills. The Fool had no problem dodging the slower and heavier Armadillomon, playing with him.
"No!" Iori yelled at his Digimon, begging him to stop fighting the Fool. It was useless. "Don't fight him, Armadillomon!"
The Betrayer made a faint growl. "Stop blabbering."
The water surface raised up to his neck and he unconsciously inhaled a breath before the surface covered his face. ". . . !" Iori felt panic increasing inside his chest, beating his heart hard. He tried his best to pound at the surface, which he knew it was useless to break through. Helplessness came and he slowed down. 'What is the use . . .? They are right. I'm only a child . . .'
Something new came in, also, and he was astonished. He never felt that way before, feeling so confident and true. He felt that way when he faced Black Wargreymon, showing his boldness and determination. He wasn't afraid for this moment, not at all. He felt that he can do it. He can face his enemies with wisdom and strength. He can do it. Warmth came into his chest, filling him with confidence and strength. Armor. He drunk into the power. A Power. A Power of the Armor Children. His Power.
'Even a child has the power to banish the darkness.'
And the child was he.
Iori grinned, unlike his usual quiet smile, but the grin that held wisdom and strength. 'Heart-Armor, Energize!'
His Crest of Wisdom softly shone out, not wildly nor bright, but quietly and sagely as his true soul. It burned upon his chest like a torching brand, but Iori paid no attention, still drinking in the ecstatic power. An aura of deep yellow, softer than his DNA partner's golden aura, as soft as the moon's light, embraced around him, along with streaks of deep wine purple that danced among the ivory yellow light.
His body was almost engulfed in the light and his clothing shifted into something new, clothes that exposed his strength. New Armor came on his body, covering his head, limbs, and chest, but unlike the armor wore by medieval knights. They were armor wore by ancient samurai. Armor that was hued a bright yellow color, making the small boy appearing as the noon sun. Widespread pants, also armored, were clasped to his legs, wide down to his ankles, as padded gauntlets protected his hands, his fingers barely seen from underneath. Yellow sandals covered his feet, dividing his big toe and the other toes in a Japanese fashion. His belt was pure white, as well as his stockings and undershirt. A helm appeared on his head, tied down by a string under his chin. His emerald eyes were the only other color beside yellow and white, which were so perfect for the sun, emerald eyes that burned with strength.
Because he was a child with the biggest heart, he was called Pebble.
With a brief gesture, Pebble sent the tentacle that bound him into an explosion. As rain fell upon him, Pebble landed on the water. Not into the water, but he stood upon the very surface of the lake. His left hand opened and his yellow-wine purple aura came into it. His heart weapon. A slender, long katana formed, its blade as black as the night sky, the blackest shade of the black itself. Around the ivory-engraved hilt, yellow wrappings were tied for steady gripping. The blade was smooth and as sharp as possible, the air almost hissing past the sharpness. The yellow aura wasn't even touching the blade, it being too dark to allow any light to touch it.
Pebble turned his dark gaze toward the Betrayer, who stared back in disbelief. He was fast in his motions. Not as fast as Koushiro, but agile and swift as he was, sprinting toward the two tentacles. With two swings, he drove his katana through the bases of the tentacles. Somehow, the power of the blade exploded the tentacles, releasing Jyou and Koushiro into the water. Jyou, already aware of the small boy's power, spent no time staring in awe or fear. Instead, he hurried toward Koushiro and brought him to the surface. He kept the redhead's head out, he trying to wake him.
The Betrayer's angry voice bellowed, "Chaos of Sea!" A huge tentacle burst out and darted toward them. At the moment, Koushiro weakly opened his eyes and gasped at the sight as Jyou braced himself, protecting the redhead with his body.
Suddenly, Pebble was at their sides, a hand in front. A yellow-colored shield burst out, unfolding outward and neatly protecting the boys, and paused the tentacle in its impact. The tentacle was sent so hard with such impact that it seemed to explode upon the shield. Though, Pebble remained unmoving, unruffled by the impact. Turning his intense gaze to Jyou and Koushiro, he ordered, "Go now!"
Jyou managed to swim toward the shore with the weak Koushiro in his arms. Pebble slashed a tentacle that came for them, then faced the Betrayer. The dark Jyou ignored the boys, now focusing on the sun samurai with rage. He summoned four tentacles out from the water around him and 'threw' them at him. Pebble quickly dodged one while driving the katana through the second, exploding it. The third one impacted upon him, but he sharply dodged and destroyed it. As he dashed toward the Betrayer, a red haze came in his eyes, he becoming a berserker. Once, he learned how to keep his temper and rage down, turning him into a stoic boy, but that his Protectors were harmed, he vowed to end the harmers' harm.
Pebble slashed, dodged, sidestepped, and leaped over tentacles as he bravely faced razor-sharp rain and smothering fog, which couldn't keep him down. After he sidestepped a stabbing tentacle, he succeeded in gashing the Betrayer's arm, distracting him. Yelling, the Betrayer stepped back from him and disappeared underwater. The water surface was suddenly silent and calm, disturbed only by the ripples from under Pebble's feet. Pebble held his katana ready, glaring at the calm surface. He was angered that the cowardly Betrayer ran away, not even giving him honor or mercy, but he had another Dark Digidestined to face.
Jyou let Koushiro lay down, catching his breath. Koushiro was too weak to sit up and there, he closed his eyes and shivered in the wetness. Hearing coming footsteps, Jyou quickly cast his protective dome around him and Koushiro and looked up to glare at the Fool. The Fool was leaving Armadillomon, who was weakened by the lightning attacks, despite that he was a Shelled Digimon. The Fool grinned with eagerness, looking suddenly hungry.
Pebble came in front of the boys, his katana up. "Stop there."
The Fool stopped in his tracks and turned to him, frowning. "So you finally found your power. A worthy opponent. I will have my fun with you."
Pebble's lips was cracked into a knowing smile. "I don't think so. You are not worthy to me."
The black eyes flashed sharply. "What are you trying to do, child?"
"But, of course. I'm only a child, even through I have my power. Sure, you can defeat me." Keeping on smiling, Pebble stepped back past the boys, keeping his eyes on the Fool.
The dark Koushiro appeared not to be fooled. "It's a trick to make me attack you."
"A trick? You really think I'm capable to trick someone?" He felt water rippling around his feet, but he didn't panic or tense. "Come on, Fool. I'm vulnerable." With these words, the black katana vanished. "Look, I'm only a child, and I never want to fight. Attack! Prove that you are better than me!"
An eyebrow raised. "Certainly a trick."
"I dare you," Pebble said, crossing his arms.
The Fool chuckled as the lightning aura appeared around him. "Very well. If you say so."
Pebble felt the water moving and a cold grip came on his right feet. He took a brief glance down. The grip came from a hand, which came from the Betrayer. His head came out, grinning slyly at the boy. "Gotcha."
His grin faded as Pebble grinned back with confidence. "No, I gotcha."
Purple bolts screamed out and struck Pebble. His armor was built to protect against lightning, an ability given for being the Ward to the Warder. The bolts licked down his armor until they made contact upon the water. The Betrayer screamed in agony, lightning sending stabbing death through his body. Pebble quickly summoned his katana and drove the blade through the Dark Jyou's back. The impact exploded him into digital pixels and Pebble heard a soft groan from the Reconciler.
A light hissing whispered from the Fool as he realized his mistake. "I know it's a trick."
The Teacher turned to him, quite calmly, as he spoke, "Fool, does the lesson teach you anything? It teaches you to be wise in those times of darkness, be cautious of false appearances, and never underestimate a child."
Pebble moved in a flash, as well, directing the black blade right into the Fool's chest. He heard a sharp inhale from Koushiro as the Fool screamed, then dissolved into pixels with a mad visage upon his face. Pebble made no waste of his time, his mind already concerned for his Digimon. A sheen, as smooth as the surface of wine, came over him, removed his armor and katana, leaving him clad in white-lined yellow kendo clothes, wide skirt-like pants and a lightweight shirt, as Iori rushed to Armadillomon's side.
"Armadillomon!" Iori uttered, resting his hands upon the scarred shell. "Are you okay?"
The crooked lips grinned back. "I'm alright, Iori-chan."
Iori wrapped his arms around the Shelled Digimon's neck, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry you got hurt."
"Hey, if it's the only way for you to get your power, then it's worth it."
Iori gazed to him, mildly surprised. "You know?"
"I had a feeling." Armadillomon's emerald eyes somehow sparkled with sly knowingness, then gave him a gentle smile. "Cody, I want you to know that I'm proud of you. Never think otherwise."
Iori made a childlike grin, then looked back to his Protectors. Koushiro was standing up from where the samurai destroyed the Fool, picking up something that caused a light frown to dawn upon his freckled face. Jyou just left the shore, also holding something in his hands. As he arrived to Koushiro's side, Jyou gave him a questioning look, which Koushiro answered with a shake of his head. Iori was puzzled, but didn't ask for more. He had the feeling that he will find out soon. His only concern was that they were safe. He walked up to them, as silent as he was, and his Protectors noticed him coming. He felt relieved as they gave him reassuring smiles, and to his surprise, they knelt by him and hugged him. Iori was astonished, but felt the comfort and protection, he buried in the warmth.
'It was remarkable," Koushiro said, letting him go. "I would never know that you do have a power after all."
"I didn't know, either," Iori admitted, glancing down to his new clothes. "I guess that when I got upset about them hurting you and Armadillomon, something inside me snapped."
Koushiro peered at him intently and curiously. " . . . Does your power have a name?"
Iori lightly frowned to himself. " . . . No, I don't think so . . ." There was a tiny bit within him, somewhere in his chest and somewhere in his mind, that he immediately recognized it as his power. He gently, cautiously touched it, unsure about how powerful and how easy to summon it. He wondered what kind of power was his, and sudden images appeared in his mind, recognizable and clear. It was a mix of surprise and understanding when he noticed the images. "No, wait . . . I know what is my power. It's the power of my Armor Digieggs."
Armadillomon cast him a surprised gaze. "What? But how?" Iori was puzzled at his response. He knew about the power, but not how or from where?
"I think I know," Koushiro said, taking a long glance to the Crest of Wisdom. "If Cody does have a power, then it's more likely that the other New Kids have similar powers to Cody's. And they have Armor Digieggs, as well. It's possible that, much like our crests, the Armor Digieggs open up for their powers to get through, giving them the power to . . ." he then gestured to Iori's clothes, "well, to wear armor much like the Armor Digimon and wield weapons."
Iori nodded, for he thought the same. "Yes, when I got angry, I felt the power coming out from the Armor Digieggs into me."
"But I didn't feel the power," Armadillomon said.
"It's the same with our Digimon, Armadillomon," Jyou reminded. "When we got our powers through our crests, our Digimon didn't feel anything. They are our powers, not theirs."
The Shelled Digimon took a long gaze at his partner, then nodded. "Ok, I think I understand, but tell me, what are those?" His claw pointed down to two small dolls in Jyou's and Koushiro's hands. So they were what they found, Iori thought. The dolls looked very alike to the real boys, with their clothes, hair and usual grins.
"Maybe Cody knows . . ." Jyou finished, looking to him.
Silently, Iori took the dolls in his hands and gazed at them carefully. He noticed that, when the dolls might look the same, they had something that was strange. Both the dolls had a hole in their chests, as if a sword was driven through. Iori realized it. "I remember. The Betrayer told me that he and the Fool had new bodies given by the Final Evil, bodies that are possible for them to live."
"Is that so?" Armadillomon said. "So they possessed the dolls."
"Yeah . . ."
The Reconciler stirred as he stood. "Perhaps it's best for us to find our friends or a way out first. I'm more concerned about our safety than the dolls."
The Teacher nodded at his words and was startled at how hazy the scene was. Jyou was very clear in his details, but about him, there was a haze that hurt his eyes. It was like trying to peer through a window of oil, glaring and hazy at the same time. He glanced around and noticed that everything except him, his Digimon, and his Protectors was hazy. He then knew. A memory. He just knew that. "I think I know where we are." He stood up and took a last gaze to make sure he was right and, indeed, he was, as he continued, "We are in your memories, the memories where you first met your dark selves."
The boys seemed not surprised, perhaps had already seen more odd things often that he did. But there was a frown on each face. "Memories . . .?" Jyou murmured in puzzlement. "But I believed I met the Betrayer at a beach, not at a lake."
"I couldn't remember where exactly did I meet my dark self," Koushiro admitted, "But this place is really one of my memories . . ." He then frowned, crossing his arms. "How did it come to be that we are inside our memories?"
Iori made a brief shrug. "I'm curious about that, but Joe is right. We need to get out of here." A flash of purple captured his eyes and he looked down to his dimly glowing crest. He then grinned. "And I know how."
At his words, the Crest of Wisdom brightened, shining a beam upon the air. It was strange, although, that the light shone on the air, not in the air. The beam seemed to open something in the air, a hole that 'opened' in size, widening until it was large for even the tall Jyou to get through. There was a new scene behind it, a scene of darkness and wetness. A grey-sanded beach was there, along with black waters and two lighthouses upon two cliffs that shone both white and black light. If such was possible.
Koushiro stared at the scene with uneasiness. "I feel funny about this . . . For some reason, I feel that we are walking into a dark future."
Iori's heart beat harder. Would the future look like this if the Digidestined failed to defeat the Final Evil? He hoped not. They worked so hard to protect the world, and they weren't going to give it up for the Final Battle. They will fight. Iori will make sure they will.
Jyou seemed to read his mind as he spoke to Koushiro, "Nevertheless, that's where we need to go if we need to defeat the Final Evil." Koushiro nodded in agreement, and together, the boys and Digimon entered the dark beach.
To be continued!