Phases
Wax and Wane…
By Obsidian Blade
"Just keep him away from the moon, that's all, we don't want him evolving too soon," a deep voice commanded.
"'Course sir, no problem sir," came the chorused reply.
A nod caused the sticks of straw wedged into a wide brimmed hat to rustle together, "The last thing we need is that damnable curse settling on one of our best hosses, af'r all."
"Yessir, yerright sir," the monotonous reply from the small group of teenagers would not have sounded so reassuring to an ear used to human voices.
"Good, I'm counting on you…"
A slender, silvery shape stood in the hazy reek of manure, hay and damp straw that permeated the gloomy room it stood in. One back leg cocked slightly so that only the front edge of one obsidian hoof rested on the ground, the young horse Pokémon swished its soot black tail lazily over its metallic flanks and gave a half-hearted snort at the flies gathering around its delicate nostrils. It blinked its large black eyes slowly as it watched the events unfold outside the gloomy prison of its stall, silently wondering if the two boys that stood there in heated argument were ever going to bother getting to work mucking out. Standing in his own excrement was not something the young Meren enjoyed and he flicked back his ears as the two stable hands grabbed for the spheres on their belts and stalked to opposite ends of the wide room, filled with the burning orange hues of late afternoon, that opened up beyond his own unlit stall.
"Right!" one of them cried, turning from his opponent for just a second to angrily shut the top door of a glaring Rapidash's box, "Whoever looses has to muck out Pyrite, Ember and Erebus while th' other gets to just clean tack, a'right?"
The Meren, Erebus by name but quite calm by nature, gave a condescending snort and rolled his dark eyes so that the whites showed. Normally a frightened gesture, this time the movement was of almost human exasperation. Erebus had seen enough of the stable hands being berated by Jacob, the head hostler, to teach him the rules of Pokémon fighting; namely that battles were not to be used as a way of settling a personal score.
"Fine!" hollered the blond-haired lad hotly as he brandished the Pokéball like a knife, "Have fun shovelling shit!"
With that he hurled the red and white ball onto the grooved concrete ground, just missing an abandoned steel pail that sat near the stalls and drawing a frightened neigh from a few of the more highly strung creatures. A squat, plant like being took shape in the light, swinging her spiny arms and grinning with the row of holes that made up her mouth. She balanced precariously on twin thorns protruding directly from the mass of bright green cactus flesh that made up both her head and body, round eyes taking in the situation with cheerful interest.
"Cacnea…" growled the dark haired opposition, suddenly seeming to have lost a bit of the arrogant anger that had characterised him before, "Well, I can still win," he muttered venomously and tossed a similar container onto the ground with an underarm swing.
Springing from the resulting blaze of scarlet light, a small, sand-coloured rodent waved pearly clawed hands in the air and let out a shrill cry of "Shrew!" It was used to battling here in the middle of the vast stable complex, so the way that the sky was almost completely blocked off aside from a few high windows didn't bother it much. In fact, it was much more like home to the burrowing mammal.
"Oh, your little rat friend?" the blond taunted before turning his attention to his own creature, "Cacnea, absorb!" he cackled almost manically.
Seemingly ignorant of her trainer's sudden burst of callous superciliousness, Cacnea gave a quick bow of her head and its crown of dark green thorns before leaping forwards in a show of agility that would have surprised any but the horses that watched from their boxes. Erebus in particular was nonplussed as Sandshrew leapt out of the way; only to be struck anyway as the animated cactus adjusted her course in a second's time. The horse Pokémon's hero, Jacob, had told him many a time that the truly wise watches everything, so he was quite used to the combatants' acrobatic antics.
The ground type's trainer let out a yap of aggravation as his enemy got the first hit but quickly ordered for a counter attack, grinning boyishly as his Sandshrew shook its head to clear it before slashing out with both paws at Cacnea. She staggered from the impact as both sets of sharp claws raked across her thick skin, wind milling both fingerless arms for balance and managing to catch the shrew upside the head with an accidental blow that sent it reeling in pain, three thorns embedded in the unprotected flesh of its face. The creature wailed in agony, scrabbling at the barbs as blood began to trickle along its nose and drip onto the floor.
"Sandshrew, stop it!" demanded its trainer, but Sandshrew remained oblivious, squalling as its own paws tore away two of the barbs in one painful burst.
Unconcerned about the physical state of his rival's Pokémon (if it got him out of shifting poo, the boy would do practically anything), Cacnea's trainer ordered, "Quick, finish it with Needle arm!"
For the first time his Pokémon seemed apprehensive, from the way Sandshrew was screaming it seemed apparent to her that they were already the victors, but she didn't even give her trainer a reproachful look as she bounded forward for the last time, thorns at the ready…
"NO!" exclaimed the first boy, whipping out a Pokéball and recalling Sandshrew before Erebus could even blink.
"Giving up? So soon?" the other stable hand inquired cockily.
The clear loser sneered and, in an action Erebus had never seen before, reached out in one swift movement and snapped back the bolts to the stall behind him.
"And do the dirty work? Yeah right! Why on earth would I give in whe-"
He was cut off as the top half of the stable door was smashed open by a pair of wild hooves, the heavy wooden barricade smacking into the back of his head with a gruesome crunch and throwing him several feet onto his chest.
"What th' hell have you done?!" cried the blond boy in horror, stepping back a few feet, "That's Pyrite, she's crazy!"
As if to prove his point the wild mare reared once again, her front legs pawing at the air furiously, before coming down heavily on all fours and releasing a bout of hungry flames from her equine mouth. The boy on the floor screamed as the bits of hay and straw that littered the charred concrete burst into flames beside him. Ignoring the agony in his bruised chest and skinned knees, he lurched to his feet and fled mindlessly like a terrified Taurus, leaving his gob smacked partner to gape as Pyrite glared at him with fanatical red eyes across the swiftly spreading fire. For a second he was certain the creamy pelted beast would charge him, impale him on the single sharp horn that scythed up from between her pointed ears, but she seemed to change her mind at the last second and, with one last braying call, bolted through one of the many corridors that branched off from the room.
Erebus envied her.
His eyes rolling from sheer fright this time, the pure steel type struggled with terrified instinct as his front legs itched to smash down the door.
'Calm down, come on, just calm…'
It was hopeless: although as intelligent as most humans Erebus was by no means above his natural intuition and it was roaring for him to escape the flickering flames. Throwing all his weight onto his back legs, he was just about to hurl himself into the door when the click of a lock stopped him and he found himself faced with the pale-skinned stable hand and the sight of the fire beyond.
The boy reached out, grabbing the young steed by the halter, and tugged insistently on the purple rope.
"Erebus, get moving!" he encouraged but that was it, he let go of the halter and sped off towards the other stalls before the Meren had even lifted a hoof.
Unlike his battle companion, he knew better than to simply abandon the horses to the flames. His Cacnea too: she stayed safe in her Pokéball as her misguided but ultimately loyal owner dashed between stalls before fleeing the scene.
The majority of the steeds were fire types: Ponyta and Rapidash that lacked the powerful fear of flames that was set deep into the others. Although they too could be killed in a violent blaze, the relatively tiny bonfire that was building in the centre of the room was no hassle for them. In several flashes of cream and gold the finest sprinters in the world had raced out through the open gates the stable hand had granted them, the fading thunder of hooves down the corridor indicating that they were already far away.
Erebus wasn't. He snorted and stamped nervously as billows of smoke stung his eyes, sweat rolling down his lean silver withers as the fire spread even further. The dry straw burnt fast and furiously but only for a matter of seconds - after that the sticks were nothing more than ashes on the floor. The sheer volume of dried grass on the ground would be enough to keep the blaze going, however, and if it reached a stall, packed full with the stuff…
As if on cue a burst of heat seared Erebus' flank as the contents of one of the right hand stalls caught fire. There was an almighty scream from the Staelin in the neighbouring stall and the bulky mare careened from her box, her mouth frothing as she leapt straight through the early fire and landed with a clatter of hooves on the far side. Her ears pressed right back against her head, she didn't even give Erebus a second glance as she followed the fire types' plight.
Terrified, Erebus risked a glance at the burning stall. In the two seconds it had taken for the Staelin to flee, it had been transformed from a living place to a roaring inferno as flames gobbled hungrily at the straw, hay and wood. Staring at the devastating flames, he found himself hypnotised by their flickering brightness as they climbed the walls of the stall and coloured the ceiling above black with smoke. For a second he forgot to breathe, gaping stupidly, before other movement was detected in the corner of his eye and he swung his long nosed face around to see. The flames on the floor had diminished as they used up their fuel, but that didn't stop them from spreading in Erebus' direction.
Unable to think straight through simple animal dread, the Meren backed up on shining black hooves until his silver rear was pressed up against the back of his stall. His mind was on overload as he panicked; eyes searching for an alternative exit he already knew didn't exist as the fire danced its way towards him. He had seen the other stall: he knew what would happen. Forcing his mind to focus on that knowledge he swallowed his fear and lurched forwards, the strong muscles in his back legs propelling him over the flames in one mighty leap.
His front hooves landing on the concrete beyond with a clatter, Erebus skittered forwards to relieve the heat from his hindquarters.
'I've made it this far,' he reassured himself, 'The rest won't be this bad.'
He broke into a trot, going down the corridor leading away from the main stalls with a confident air picked up by his leap over the fire. Somehow facing his fear had made him feel empowered and now, as he passed various side doors leading into closets for tack, blankets and other such things, he didn't even feel the need to run. Moving at the same steady place, he rounded the corner.
The room beyond was in flames.
With a terrified whinny he reared up, only to get a face full of foul black smoke that had gathered, unnoticed by the young horse, along the ceiling. This time gathering his nerves was easier but the scene was still far worse. Pyrite, the crazed mare who had set off the first blaze, was bucking and rearing wildly in the centre of the smaller room of stalls. Her flaming mane and tail were glowing with an intensity Erebus had never seen before and had extended to twice their normal length, the flames so hot they crackled through the air with each whip of the Rapidash's head and neck. Hooves gouging out great chunks of concrete as she pawed mindlessly at the air and ground, Pyrite released huge bursts of conflagration from her jaws, neighing with pure insane ecstasy as the hay bag in a stall burst into unforgiving flames.
To Erebus' horror an equine scream of agony soared above the roar of the inferno, accompanied shortly afterwards with the pungent scent of burnt flesh. Feeling sick to his stomach he realised that no one had let these horses free. Pyrite, in her lunacy, was butchering them in the one way they hated most: burning.
His voice hoarse from the thick plumes of reeking smoke, Erebus just managed to cry out, "Pyrite! Stop!"
The fire creature turned at the sound of her name, crimson eyes locking on the young Meren as he stood trembling in the doorway. For a second he felt the same feeling of dread wash over him as the blond stable hand had experienced - would she attack him? But no, Pyrite only glared for a second before wheeling around and galloping at a reckless speed down the next dark passage.
Although still stunned and scared, Erebus knew he had no time to waste. If the blaze got bigger he would never manage to cross it alive and the other horses, well… Once again reining in his brainless gut instinct, he coughed at the smoke before running to the first stall he could reach. The top half of the door was open and through the gap he could see a Ponyta filly clouded in suffocating smoke. The pink nostrils of her stubby nose were actually tinged with blood and her black eyes were glassed over; even though she was a fire type, the foal knew the smell of death.
"Kick it down!" cried Meren to her, seeing the look of blank resignation in her eyes even as he begged her to react.
"The door, kick it down!"
Ponyta just stared, her breath wheezing from a damaged throat, and Erebus realised that she wouldn't do it alone. Taking a deep breath that only really resulted in a hacking cough, he turned around and raised one back leg.
WHAM.
The obsidian hoof smacked into the door from the outside, causing it to shudder and release a few sharp splinters that dug into Erebus' flesh. Inside the stall, Ponyta jumped at the sound and backed up a bit, the first signs of life appearing in her glassy eyes as twinges of fear.
WHAM. WHAM. WHAM!
The first kick caused a plank to begin to give, the second to snap it in two, the third to break it away entirely. As his aim was for the timber that supported the hinges, the entire door swung inwards at the final blow. If Ponyta hadn't been so small, it definitely would have injured her. Instead she found herself presented with an exit. She knew what to do.
Erebus stepped out of the way as the filly galloped from her stall, rushing out without a word of thanks. Blood was seeping from a shallow wound in his back leg, but he forced himself to limp to the next stall, so close to the flames that a welt broke out across his left flank at the heat.
"It's all right," a voice suddenly told him from across the fire, "I'll let them out."
It was Apollo, a wizened old Rapidash who had retired back to the stables he had been raised in after winning many a race off in Celadon. His pelt was yellowed, his back stooped and his teeth rotten but Jacob kept him around as a sort of mascot. Through the pain of the smoke in his throat, Erebus vaguely remembered that he could undo the bolts in stall doors.
As if to prove the point, Apollo turned and released a terrified Meren who immediately ran.
"Do the same, youngun," the old horse advised, "I'll take care of these."
If he had been paying the sort of attention he normally did, Erebus would have noticed that his elder had no intention of escaping. As it was he nodded his head and broke out into a proper run for the first time since the beginning of the blaze, doing his best to ignore the pain in one leg as he dashed through a gap between flames before they could shut him off completely.
"Run fast!" Apollo's voice urged from behind so Erebus did, careening down corridors at a pace that could very well kill him.
He was built for heavy work, not speed, but that didn't change the fact that galloping into a wall would break his grey neck.
'Better a broken neck than a burnt one,' he decided grimly.
He came to another room, one that bore all the clues to show that Pyrite had been and gone. Two passages branched off from it, causing Erebus to hesitate. Both were corridors of fire, the air simmering with heat down the middle, but they were the only ways onwards. He could hardly go back. Making a quick decision before he could loose all his speed to uncertainty, he took the right path and barrelled down it, the heat bearing down on all sides and causing his very flesh to bubble like the skin of a roast chicken fresh out of the oven.
The pain was unbelievable, if he didn't know better Erebus would have claimed that he was melting, but he forced himself onwards. Trying to turn around at this point would seal his fate instantly. Suddenly there was a crack overhead, the sound causing the horse to leap forwards even faster in fright. It was a lucky reaction: a burning timber thundered to the ground right behind him, exploding in a rain of sparks that cascaded over Erebus' head and nipped at his flesh.
If he had possessed the air to scream he would have done, but instead he channelled the near hit into more speed as he hurtled down what had suddenly become a maze of crisscrossing passages. If only he could remember the way out… But no, this was now all down to luck. Either he could stumble across an exit or he would-
Well, no reason to even consider that.
Launching himself through a doorway, Erebus forced himself to slow to a halt as he found himself face to face with Pyrite herself. It was a dead end, and he was too close to the crazy mare for comfort. Both creatures were slick with perspiration, their sides mottled with burns and cuts from shattered wood, and Pyrite's once luxurious coat was now completely bare in places. Although she still managed an angry bray at the other horse, the Rapidash was obviously wearing down. As though afraid of the smaller, weaker beast she backed away until her whole right side was pressed against the far wall, sides heaving with exertion. She caught his black gaze with her own fiery red, and Erebus suddenly felt a tide of images wash through his young mind.
A man, his face contorted into a visage of sadistic glee, the whip in his hands slick with congealing blood. A painful bit pulled mercilessly into the soft flesh of a young mouth. An indifferent master pushing towards a jump far too high. Words filled with scorn. The whip raised. Cold nights alone without a blanket. The roar of the crowd at the races when a horse too young to really compete stumbled and fell. Locked in a closet. Left to die. Hate of one human. Hate of all humans.
Erebus stumbled back at the assault of memories, a life of sugar lumps and kind hands making him incapable of truly understanding what he had just experienced. But one thought held true: It is not her fault.
"Pyrite…" he croaked, feeling the heat of the flames bearing down of them through the wall, "We can get out, we have to…"
The Rapidash's eyes instantly regained their furious redness and she turned away from the wall she had leant against so that she faced Erebus, her long horn glinting in the hellish light.
"Never. I won't."
Too startled by the fact that she could actually speak, Erebus had no time to stop her as she launched herself up onto her back legs for the last time. Her mane and tail, which had burnt down to little more than a flicker when he found her, roared back into life. They burnt bright white, shining with an even greater intensity than Erebus had seen when she burnt a poor horse alive. Flames dripping from her mouth, Pyrite launched a stream of Fire Blast into the walls around her, the five pointed stars of flame instantly transforming the tiny room into a living hell.
Erebus could only run as air gushed down the passage to feed the flames, drawing even more fire with it that licked at his streaming body.
Jealousy.
The word soared up into his consciousness as Pyrite incinerated her tortured soul with her own flame and Erebus screamed an equine cry as death swirled around him. Coherent thought left him as he raced through the passages mindlessly, not even focusing on escape as he simply ran.
Corridor after corridor, Erebus took random turns and barrelled through walls of flame. He could barely see, hardly breathe and each step sent agony scything up from his injured leg. He'd never encountered death before, he'd never encountered death…
He took another turn and the tiny part of him that still had a grasp on sanity cried out in joy at the sight of the clouded sky through the big double doors at the end. Freedom and safety were finally in sight… but the passage was blocked. Timbers had fallen from the ceiling and Erebus was forced to halt in the face of killing himself on the splintered wood. He had to break it down. The process would hurt, sanity reminded him, but pain was better than death. All he had to do was beat at the heavy rafters with his hooves until they gave way.
As he raised a hoof, however, a human moan reached his pricked ears. It was hard to see through the smoke and the flickering light distorted things also, but as he lowered his head to peer closer at the wreckage there was nothing that could change what he saw. There, with two planks below and three above, sprouted the torso of a human. He was trapped around the waist, with both arms dangling limply over the wood, but at the sight of the steel horse one hand reached out to touch the froth-flecked flesh.
From the ponytail of thick dark hair trailing over the man's broad shoulder to his strong arms and calloused hands, Erebus recognised the man. It was Jacob. His favourite hostler, the man who cared for him and took him for runs, was trapped beneath the rubble that Erebus had to smash to escape past. If he did what was necessary, Jacob would die.
If he didn't, it would probably be his own life that was lost.
He dallied, snorting at the pain as his breathing rate increased and tore at the raw lining of his throat. The smoke that plagued him swirled just above his head even here; the heat pressed at his hocks; and he could smell the nauseating scent of burning. But he did not want to kill Jacob. He did not want to kill Jacob!
His infernal instinct thought otherwise, begging with the sentiment and trying to persuade it that both he and the hostler would die if they stayed. One life or two - shouldn't the answer be obvious?
'I don't want to be a killer!' he cried out internally, 'No more death, no more!'
His thoughts instantly returned to Pyrite and he shivered, forcing himself to step away from the barricade so as to avoid lashing out involuntarily as the Rapidash's dying thoughts plagued his mind once again. The images of abuse and neglect swirled around in the confines of his skull, roaring at him that a simple human's life was insignificant. He fought it, but the pressure seemed to build up between his ears and he stomped his hooves against the slowly heating concrete in obvious distress.
Left to die. Hate of one human. Hate of all humans.
In perfect tandem with the thought a whole section of roof came down further along the passage behind him in a hail of sparks and glowing embers. Scalding hot air rushed around his hindquarters and with a wild neigh instinct and Pyrite shoved Erebus out of the way. His Meren body leapt forward, screaming at the agony as his skin bubbled and melted, and his hooves flailed at the barrier, smashing into it was all the force that could be mustered. Again and again he threw his weight at the sturdy wood, droplets of a warm liquid flecking his chest and legs as he struck something softer than timber.
The shock of each blow flew through his legs like lightning as one of the rafters finally started to give way. With one bellowing cry every last bit of force was threaded into the next strike, his hooves striking the surface together like a living sledgehammer. For half a second it held but then, with a deafening crack, the beam snapped in two, Erebus' hooves and front legs tearing through in a hail of splinters.
Blood streaming from the new wounds, instinct tugged him from the wreckage, gave him a run up and sent him soaring over the newly lowered barricade. It forced him to race out the huge double doors and into the night… and there it left him. Breathing heavily and irregularly, Erebus let momentum carry him further from the stables as another section of roof caved in somewhere near the middle. The damage to his front legs was extensive, if it was not for the steel type that protected his bones they would definitely be broken, and his coat was a mass of oozing cuts and burns. Yet all of this was nothing in the face of what he had just done. He couldn't concentrate for grief, regret and self-loathing - it was like trying to grab onto running water. His thoughts were a blur and the only thing he could truly detect, a tiny spark of relief, only made him feel worse.
Exhaustion suddenly set in, his injured knees wobbling as they fought against buckling. He threw his head up in despair as his back legs reached the verge of collapse, only to find that the clouds were clearing far overhead, revealing a silvery blue object that hung suspended among the clouds. Erebus had never seen the moon before but as he stood, awash in its soft white light, a strange feeling came over him. Unable to tear his dark gaze from the sky, he was unaware of the lines of bright light that were spreading out over his wounded flanks. Twisting and turning into intricate patterns, the lines thickened until his entire body was ablaze, from slender muzzle to coal black tail. Pain seared along the back of his neck and he jumped into a rear, blades of light scything up through the glowing flesh. His legs, so badly hurt, thickened and strengthened before his eyes and all over his body muscles grew in size.
Throwing back his head, Erebus illuminated the churned earth beneath his feet with the radiance of his evolution. Unable to make a noise, he dropped back onto all fours as the light receded, leaving a powerfully built creature with a mane and tail of black smoke standing in the place of the slender Meren. Sharp silver blades protruded in a row down his proudly curved neck and dark and light grey metal swirled like liquid beneath his translucent skin.
Of all this, Erebus was unaware. What tiny grasp he had maintained on his sanity was severed with the premature event of his evolution and he gave a trumpeting bellow with his new lungs before charging at the fence that surrounded the stable compound. Hooves the size of dinner plates carried him to the thin metal bars and he lowered his head before slashing wildly at the barrier with his new blades. The rigid material was sliced easily as Erebus went through it like a knife through butter, his mind nothing more than a deadly tangle of destructive impulse. He cut at the fence repeatedly not because he wanted to escape but because he enjoyed the screech of blade against metal. It was as though devastation was what he had been born to create…
The honk of a car's horn broke through the wild haze that surrounded the Staelin just enough to cut his actions short as he pricked his ears and turned his head to see what was going on. The bright light of a headlamp on main beam burned into his vision as a battered old Ford spluttered up to the gates. Erebus' eyes narrowed: humans.
As the door was flung open, a young man with a pale complexion and dark hair leaping from the vehicle and running towards the gate, Erebus leapt through the gap in the iron fencing he had created and thundered towards the woods nearby, his crazy brain somehow conscious of the fact that staying around to watch while splattered with the blood of the head hostler was not entirely wise.
As his silver shape disappeared behind the shield of tree trunks, the scream of a son without a father cried out from just within the stables.
Three men sloped through the forest, their camouflaged caps pulled low over their eyes and tranquilliser rifles slung over their shoulders. The older one, his strong chin covered by a mass of grey stubble, had a professional air about him that set him apart from the younger, whose blue eyes flicked about at the slightest sound.
"So," said the latter, more for the comfort of conversation than the talk itself, "This horse has been missing for three days, right?"
His grizzled companion gave a grunt as an affirmative, "Since th' fire."
"Ah, I see," he paused for a second, so that the only sound was the tweeting of birds and the snapping of twigs beneath their heavy brown boots, before continuing, "And they expect us to find him?"
"'s our job," came the uninterested reply.
"Oh. They say he's mad too."
"At night."
"Oh."
They continued, the blue eyed lad taking to fiddling with the zipper of his olive green coat at what he considered to be an uncomfortable silence. His companion simply walked.
"Th-they say he killed a man, you know," he finally blurted, unable to stop himself.
This time the wrinkled face of the experienced man split into a brutal smile, and he patted the cracked old whip at his side.
"Perfect for the races then, don't you think?
-------
The Races - a highly competitive horse Pokémon race in Celadon with four subdivisions (normal race - two laps, long race - fifty laps, race with weights - four laps, handicapped horses, team race - ten laps, weighted chariots). Although it is very well publicised, it's an event with history and the rules haven't changed with time, allowing abuse to be an everyday thing.
Okay, I have a few questions for anybody who'd like to be particularly useful, although they're obviously not compulsory.
1. Was the initial Sandshrew/Cacnea battle any good? I'm worried that it was a bit short and boring too…
2. Was the description alright? Just taking a quick glance at Twisted Hierarchy or Just a Girl would show my normal standard of describing; I have this horrible feeling that it all went to pot in this fic.
3. How was Pyrite's death scene? Too quick? Poorly portrayed? Fine?
4. Any other thoughts would be much appreciated too.
I wrote this for the writing contest at but I think it would be like cheating if I waited for your responses before submitting my entry. I'm just going to give it one last look-through and then post it there; this questionnaire is just for my own benefit as an author, not a competitor.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the fic! All comments/constructive criticism/flames etc. are welcome… flames simply 'cause I like a good laugh. :P
Sidian