Enter The Light
Part one: Prologue: Silent Arrival
###
Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Plot belongs entirely to moi, although some is borrowed from the original series. Characters belong entirely to Toei Animation, etc.
Reminder: This is the next part in a series. If you read this and don't understand what's happening, it's advised that you read The Dark Bandit, and then go on to read The Reign of Courage and In The Dark. This story will make much more sense if you do.
Thank you, and enjoy.
###
In a small, grassy area to the east of the main roadway, the snow fell silently on the soft grass and bare-leaved trees. Any digimon in the area had migrated to warmer climates or taken shelter from the cold winter snows, which even at the end of season were thick and difficult to travel.
Hidden beneath the accumulated precipitation was a small wooden object with a few markings on it.
A solitary figure, clad in a thick woolen cape and hood, shimmered into existence a few paces from the object. It shivered in the cold, rubbing its hands along its arms to warm itself. A pair of blue eyes peered from under the hood, searching for something within the snows. They came upon the wooden object.
A few hesitant swipes at the sign and the snow was felled, revealing the dark markings in the wood. Aloud, the traveler read the words. His voice was only a whisper, and yet it echoed in the silence of the winter.
"The Village of Firsts."
Something was gone from him, and yet something still remained, for he could sense the ancient boundary as he never could before. Hesitantly, he lifted a hand to where he sensed the invisible wall was built, and though he could not feel it, the hairs upon his skin sensed now that they were passing through something unseen.
He stepped back, his boots crunching in the fallen snow, his hand pulling back as though he had touched something very cold - or very hot. In truth, the sensation was neither, and it was fear that coursed through his veins and filled his blood - the first emotion.
"If I am unworthy...," he muttered softly. The wind fluttered past him, gently, shifting the folds of his cloak. He wrapped his arms around himself again and took another step back, head bowed in miserable defeat. A single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped into the snow, a silent drop.
Suddenly, the wind increased in strength and speed, and rushed past him as though trying to blow him off the ground. He held his ground, planting his feet in the snow and pulling the cloak tighter around him. In the distance, he thought he could hear a loud rumbling sound. Hope entered his mind, warmed his heart, but another part of him smashed it down. It was not yet time.
The Primary Village was the same as he recalled, dimly, through the fog of his spell-clouded mind. The calming pastel colors, the large cubic shapes arranged in piles, even the rows of eggs and tiny baskets along the ground. For a brief moment, he forgot his sorrow, and felt relief in this childlike place. Relief. Another feeling for his mind to process.
"Have you come to destroy us, then?" asked a small, squeaky voice, and he observed a tiny digimon, perched upon the edge of one of the cubes that were scattered about. It was a Nyaromon, and it was staring at him with accusing eyes.
"No," he answered, uncertain of how he ought to reply.
"And why not?" questioned a different squeaky voice, this time from a small Yukimibotamon, on the ground at his feet. "You destroyed nearly all of us, why not the rest?"
For a long moment, the visitor was silent, thinking of a reply. "I don't want to destroy any longer," he answered. "I never wished to destroy, really...I...."
The Nyaromon and the Yukimibotamon both waited for a moment, watching as he tried to collect himself.
The words failed him. Suddenly feeling quiet exhausted, he sank to the ground, deprived suddenly of the strength to hold in the tears. "I'm sorry," he said, at first in a hoarse whisper, and then in a louder voice. "I'm sorry," he repeated, over and over again, never feeling as though it was enough.
The two digimon watching him said nothing, did nothing, only waited and watched until the tears had dried up and there were only sniffles. Then the Nyaromon spoke: "You were Chosen, and you failed in your duties."
"What?" he questioned, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Chosen for what?"
"Chosen as guardian of the defenseless," the Yukimibotamon squeaked out. "Defenseless humans, defenseless digimon."
He pondered this statement for a moment, while he rubbed the tears from his eyes. "I was," he said then, as though recalling a long-forgotten memory. With his right hand, he removed the strange device from his pocket. It was not the tiny, pale blue box he had first received, though. Now it was twisted, mutated, and black. He dropped it, afraid it still contained evil.
"The darkness took you," Nyaromon told him. "But you have escaped, it would seem."
"There is still good in you," the Yukimibotamon said, optimism in his voice. "Look again."
Once more he reached into the pocket of his pants and this time removed a tiny, rectangular object. It was pink, and there was a carving of a flower on it. "What is this?" he asked.
At the touch of it, the sight of it, the memory returned to his mind. Wormmon, slowly deleting, dissolving into nothingness. The light that had surrounded the small caterpillar as he disappeared.
Afterward, he'd wandered through the desert for what seemed like years, lost in a haze of confusion. He'd somehow returned to the same spot, and it was there that he'd found this tiny pink object. And it was then that he'd decided to come to this village, if it would have him.
"It is your strength," Nyaromon answered. "It is all the good inside you. You have escaped the darkness, but it has not been destroyed. And you are not released from your duties."
"Duties?" he echoed. "Of...guarding the defenseless? But how?"
SOnce you have been Chosen, you are always Chosen."
"What you thought was your weakness is your strength," Yukimibotamon told him. "Use it well."
"But - but how can I be a Chosen still?" he questioned. "I don't understand."
Nyaromon snorted dismissively. "We are not the digital gods, and so we do not have all your answers," the tiny digimon replied. It looked toward the digivice he'd tossed to the ground. "You still posses everything required."
"Don't worry," Yukimibotamon added encouragingly. "You'll succeed."
###
Miyako had been quite honestly astonished with how much the past few months had changed her sister's appearance. Momoe, now quite pregnant, was much larger than she'd last remembered, and had a rather extensive collection of baby clothes she'd knitted and sewn to prepare for the baby's arrival.
"I had some help," the elder of the sisters explained when Miyako expressed her surprise at the pile of garments. "Mimi, Sora, and Jun helped me. It was a bit better than simply sitting around worrying."
"Sitting around worrying?" Miyako echoed. "Oh, you needn't have worried." She waved a hand in a dismissive gestured and laughed, but turned aside. The truth was that Momoe would have had much to worry about if she'd known anything at all.
"I shall worry about you no matter what," Momoe replied. "Especially when Mother knows too little to worry about."
Miyako sighed and bowed her head regretfully. "I ought to have told them something, I suppose," she admitted.
"Something would have been nice," her sister agreed. "Though I cannot blame you for keeping silent. They hardly would have understood." She shook her head. "I can't say that I understand anything, myself."
"I'm not sure any of us do."
###
"She's gone where?" Daisuke echoed. He stood in the doorway of Koushiro's laboratory (it didn't seem safe to venture further) and stared in disbelief at the wizard.
"It was your idea, if I recall," the elder Chosen replied, only half visible behind a book. He looked up from the giant volume for a moment. "She came to me and told me that you were both concerned for Lady Ichijouji, and that it might be best to try to explain things to her. I helped her to understand as best I was able, and then we worked out how to explain this to Lady Ichijouji without upsetting her terribly."
Daisuke sighed, groaned, and then sighed again. "I didn't mean for her to go there on her own," he answered, shuffling his feet. "I thought a letter might have worked. And why hasn't she returned? It's been more than a week."
"It's possible she might have decided to stay longer, to assist Lady Ichijouji, to comfort her." Koushiro returned to his studies. "If you're wise, you'll follow her, tell them what's happened."
"That would work best if I could understand what's happened."
###
Iori stood at the window, peering down at the village at the foot of the castle. Many years before his birth, the village which bore the name of the kingdom had been a bustling city, filled with people, marketplaces, banks, and schools. By the time the youngest of the Chosen had arrived at the palace, however, Yagami City had become only a tiny village. The schools and banks were shut down, the marketplaces gone bankrupt or devoid of any sellable goods, the people mostly gone.
Apparently, the winter had been a busy time here, because now he could catch a glimpse of several construction projects taking shape below despite the cold and occasional snows of the past months.
"It's astounding," he stated simply.
"It is," Hikari agreed. She turned her head to face her brother, who was surveying the landscape as well. "How did you manage it?"
"It was discovered that no one wished to live in a place that is ugly," Taichi replied. "So, I decided that the best way to urge people to live in an ugly place would be to make it look nicer. Of course, this took money, but I expect that the investment will pay off."
Sora, who had apparently assisted in some way or another with these plans, was grinning widely. "What he means is that a few nicer roads, a few banks, and some loans to villagers who desperately needed home repairs made the place look quite a bit nicer," she translated.
"Therefore, more appealing," Iori finished. "Already it seems as though people have decided to move and build, and I'm certain that the spring will bring more."
###
"Enough talk," Nyaromon said impatiently. "I'm certain you didn't come here for our conversation."
"What you seek is over there," Yukimibotamon added, grinning. It had no arms nor legs, but it could point with its eyes, toward a patch of land where a dozen or so eggs had recently appeared.
He turned his head to see the place, and then turned back, but the two digimon had disappeared. Without bothering to ponder long on that, he stood and walked, hesitantly, to the eggs.
When he reached the spot, he stared blankly at the tiny, pastel colored objects with a sense of confusion. "They're defenseless," he thought to himself, remembering what the Yukimibotamon had said to him.
One of the eggs appeared ready to hatch. A tiny crack had appeared in the side, and it began to rock back and forth. The crack slowly grew larger, until the shell of the egg fell away and deleted, leaving a tiny green digimon in its place.
"Hello Ken," said the small creature.
###
Daisuke was packing, throwing all manner of clothes, shoes, and any other item he might find useful into a trunk. He wasn't bothering with things such as folding or placing, he was simply tossing the objects haphazardly. As he did so, he mumbled to himself under his breath.
"Are you leaving?' a voice questioned from his open doorway, and he paused long enough to glance up and see Hikari.
"Yes," he said. "I have to. My sister - she's gone to speak to Lady Ichijouji...."
"And you want to go and be with her," she finished. "I understand."
Daisuke paused in his actions, holding a shirt in his hand, and took a deep breath. "I don't envy her," he said then. "Either of them, really."
"Do you think he'll return?" Hikari asked. "From - wherever he has gone?"
He tossed the shirt into the trunk, which was by now mostly overflowing, and sighed. "I don't know," he answered after a moment's thought. He shrugged, then turned away from the trunk to open the door of a wardrobe that was leaning against the wall. "I think that at the end there, he seemed like himself again, or at least less like the Kaiser. I don't know where he's gone, though, or what he's thinking now." He sighed, rummaging through the wardrobe. "I used to be able to guess, but then things changed and then things changed more, and now I haven't a clue."
She said nothing, only watching him as he continued to rummage through the wardrobe, occasionally pausing to toss out a shirt or some other piece of clothing, which landed on the top of the pile. After a moment's thought, Hikari shook her head at his carelessness, and went to the trunk. She emptied it, and then began to fold the clothing and place it neatly inside the container. "Will you leave today?" she asked.
"Tomorrow," he replied, head still buried within the wardrobe. "Too late now, nearly dark already and not safe to travel, especially in the cold." He tossed a pair of pants over his head, and they landed on the bed beside the trunk.
Hikari carefully folded a shirt and set it atop the pile. "Are you going to stay long?"
"I hope not," he answered, voice still muffled. "I don't know what else there is to be done, and if at least one of us doesn't return before the spring planting, I expect my father will have a few words to say." There was a pause, and then he mumbled: "Where is it?"
"What are you looking for?"
"A book," Daisuke answered vaguely. He sighed, guessing that the object of his search was not in the wardrobe, and thus extracted his head. He turned and caught sight of Hikari's actions. "What are you doing?"
"Folding," she answered simply. "You never would have fit all of that," she gestured toward the pile, "into this trunk. What's so important about a book?"
"I m not sure."
"Well, perhaps this is a ridiculous suggestion, Daisuke, but it might possibly be on the bookshelf." Hikari gestured to the unit which stood against the wall opposite the wardrobe. He turned and stared as though he'd never before noticed that particular piece of furniture.
###
Despite the cold and the light flurries of snow that had begun to fall, Yamato was showing his brother the improvements to the village turned city first hand. Wrapped warmly in coats, hats, mittens, and scarves, the two brothers traversed the streets, admiring the construction projects, but with their minds actually far distant from the place they were now in.
When all the new buildings had been pointed out and commented on, they fell into a comfortable silence, each alone with his own thoughts. Their boots crunched in the dusting of new snow. As they trekked back to the palace, Takeru paused in his steps and turned back toward the town. A cold breeze blew past him, and he shivered, shoving his hands down into his pocket.
Yamato was a few steps beyond his brother when he noticed that Takeru's footsteps were not behind him. He turned and took the few steps back to where he had left him. "Must be strange, eh?" he said then. Takeru turned, curious, so he elaborated. "To see such development after so long in the woods, alone?"
The younger brother sighed, shrugging slightly. "I suppose," he answered after a moment of thought. "I just look at these villages and towns and cities now and think how lucky it is that they weren?t destroyed by Chimeramon." His mind filled with images of flaming buildings, panicked villagers, and one huge flying monster soaring overhead, screeching his anguished rage. He shivered, though not from the cold.
Yamato, who had never seen the monster his brother spoke of, was silent for a long moment as he considered his words. "Let's hope we are always so successful against our enemies."
###
Miyako left her sister with her knitting and wandered down the hall, alone with her thoughts and the silent calm. She was going to her room to think and to study as best she might, when she heard a triumphant "Aha!" come from one of the rooms.
Curiosity got the better of the young mage, and she turned her head toward the noise, then went and tapped lightly on the door from which the sound had come.
Hikari opened the door as Daisuke was busy searching through the book for some particular page. Miyako peered around the door frame, astonished to find him engaged in some scholarly pursuit, but more astonished by the sudden, sharp pain in her head which suddenly jabbed like a knife behind her eyes and cased her to flinch as though struck.
Hikari saw the motion and reached a hand out, asking "What's wrong, Miyako?" but even before the words had passed her lips, the pain was gone.
"I - nothing, now," Miyako answered, the pain having completely abated. "I just had a sudden headache, that's all. It's nothing."
"That's very strange," Hikari said, concern written all over her face. She watched as Miyako entered the room and seated herself on a chair that was free of clothing or other objects. "Maybe you ought to sleep?"
"Maybe," the other girl agreed. "But I wanted to know what the triumphant cry was about. Daisuke, cheering about a book? I must know why."
Hikari sighed, shook her head, and resumed folding the haphazard pile still on the bed. "I wish I knew. He spent the longest time searching for it when it was in front of him on the bookshelf and now he's searching for something in its pages that he?s yet to explain."
"I'll find it, just wait," Daisuke mumbled. He lifted his head for a moment. "I'm glad you're here, Miyako, you can help me make sense of it when I find it."
"When you find what?" Miyako asked, and Daisuke began, at last, to explain.
"It's a prophecy, I think," he answered, still turning pages at a fast rate of speed. "It was given to me in the bottom of the Kaiser's tower."
"Given to you?" Hikari questioned in disbelief. "By who?"
He shrugged. "Dunno. He never introduced himself. But let me explain. I entered the tower through the basement - by accident, actually, and into a room filled with books and some other mechanical objects. There was a - a someone there - I don't even know if he was a human or a digimon, because he wore a hood and stood in the dark. He used magic to take this book off the shelf and snow me a page of it, then told me to take the book, because it would be useful. It's a good thing he did, since I don't remember anything about what he showed me." He grinned sheepishly.
"How would you know it when you found it?" Miyako asked, beginning to feel a completely different sort of headache form.
Daisuke only shrugged again. "I'll know it when I see it, I'm sure of it," he answered again, confidence in his voice. A few moments later, however, he reached the end of the book and shut the back cover, shaking his head and frowning.
"There's something odd about that book," Miyako said when he shut it. "Can I see it?" He gave her the book, and when she took it, she could see much more clearly what must have caused the headache she'd felt and the strange feeling she'd had since she'd entered the hallway. Instinctively, she dropped it to the ground, the hand that had touched it already beginning to feel warm to the touch.
"What's wrong?" Hikari asked, sensing the panic that Miyako was trying not to show or feel.
Miyako didn't answer for a moment. She stared at the book on the floor - a large, plain book with a dark leather cover, ancient but otherwise quite ordinary looking. Yet the aura that she could sense around it was dark, and that aura combined with where Daisuke had found it, made her certain that the book must contain spells and prophecies of Dark Magic.
As soon as she had come to that conclusion, Miyako's brain began to spin with ideas. Koushiro would probably be awake still, it was not quite that late, and he would be curious about the book as well. But what would he advise? That the book be destroyed? Why would a book of Dark Magic have been given to Daisuke? Who would have given him such a book? And - to whom would it be useful?
"You'll have to take this to Koushiro," Miyako said finally, standing. "You." She pointed toward Daisuke, lest Hikari have some notion of touching the book. She knew not what would happen if Hikari, possessing of the Light Magic that was the opposite of the Dark contained in the book, touched the object, but she was certain it would not be beneficial. Daisuke, as devoid of magic, had been possessing the book for some time and not been harmed.
"Why?" Daisuke questioned, lifting the book easily. When his hands made contact with the leather cover, Miyako saw that the dark aura flared, but Daisuke appeared unharmed. Another mystery to ponder, but it would be best if none other touched it.
"I cannot touch that book," she answered. "It contains Dark Magic, I can see it, and I can feel it. It doesn't seem to affect you, so you must take it. Take it to Koushiro, though he won't be able to lay hands upon it, either. I don't know what to do with it, but he will."
###
In the lull that followed the defeat of the latest enemy, Koushiro had returned to pursuits that had been neglected during his stay in the wilderness. There were still five hundred and eighty four newly discovered ancient books to search through and prophecies and ancient spells to learn and study. With a fire blazing warmly, a comfortable easy chair positioned in front of it, and a hot mug of tea waiting for consumption, Koushiro was prepared for a night of study, undisturbed by the nighttime quiet. Tentomon rested upon a stack of books, content to study the topmost volume until he fell asleep and napped away the rest of the night.
Unfortunately, it was not to last. The wizard had gotten no further into the book than the first sentence when a cacophony of impatient knocks sounded on the thick wooden door to his laboratory. With a sigh of regret, Koushiro set aside his book and made his way through the clutter and piles to the door, calling "I'm coming," so to ease the mind of whoever wished to bother him.
Daisuke stood in the doorway, holding an ancient but otherwise ordinary looking book in his hands, a look of urgency on his face. Koushiro held out his hands reflexively, to take the book from him, but his visitor pulled the volume closer to his chest. "No!" he said, sharply, as though he were concerned the book would be damaged. "Miyako says you mustn't touch it."
Confused, Koushiro stepped aside to admit his visitor. "Then why do you bring it to me?" he asked.
Miyako herself, and Hikari as well, appeared in the doorway. "It has Dark Magic in it, Koushiro," the young mage explained. "It was given to him."
"Given to him? By whom?" the wizard questioned, and Daisuke was obliged to relate the incident once more. Afterwards, the wizard, rubbing his chin in thought, cleared a few books away from the nearest table and gestured for the book to be placed upon it.
"Do you know what we should do?" Daisuke asked.
"It's been many years since I last saw a book of Dark Magic," Koushiro said after a long pause. "They are rare in these parts, as rare as Dark Wizards themselves. Those who practice the darker magic were never popular with those that ruled this kingdom, for various reasons. If this book was given to you, Daisuke, then we must be wary. You say you don't know who it was that gave it to you?"
"No," he answered, shaking his head. "Do you think they gave it to me in order to be of some help? Or for some other purpose?"
"It's hard to say without knowing who it was that gave it to you," the wizard responded. "And without seeing what they wished you to see. You must find what it was you saw that day, and then we can begin to decide what to do with it."
Daisuke set the book on the table and opened it to a random page. Dark ink filled the pages in a flowing script, but none of it meant anything to him. None of it looked the least bit familiar. He turned the pages, shaking his head. Nothing reminded him of anything. "I don't know if I can," he said, and then shut the book again, turning aside. "It'll have to wait, though. I need to leave in the morning."
"I don't think you should," Miyako disagreed. She stood in the doorway, arms folded, an expression of concentration on her face, eyes locked on the book. "I think that whatever is in that book must be found out soon, and the sooner the better."
Daisuke opened his mouth to disagree, stepping away from the book, but Koushiro interrupted before he could speak. "I agree," the wizard stated. "Whatever the reason behind this gift, it was not given lightly. Whether it be for good or bad, Daisuke, it must be for something, and as such, it cannot wait."
He frowned, turning his gaze back to the book, and now casting a frown in its direction. "But my sister...," he mumbled, then sighed and collapsed into the rickety chair beside the table.
There was a weighty silence in the room which lasted a few moments. Koushiro sighed, as though to say that such things would happen, lifted his cup of tea, and took a sip. Miyako shuffled her feet and looked at the floor.
"Miyako can go instead," Hikari said then, emerging from her own thoughts and causing the others to jump. She'd been so silent that she?d almost gone unnoticed.
"What?" Miyako asked at the same time that Daisuke looked up from the floor with an expression of confusion.
"Miyako?" he echoed. "But - ."
"It's perfect," Hikari answered, pleased with the plan. "Miyako will go in your place."
"But - ," Daisuke began again, and Miyako interrupted this time.
"Yes," she said, nodding. "I will go in your place. It's perfect, don't you see?"
Daisuke appeared hesitant, but it was easy to see that there wasn't much choice and he was obviously outvoted. He shrugged, glanced back at the book, and then nodded reluctantly. To himself he admitted he was greatly relieved at escaping the trip, but this admission was immediately followed by a bit of guilt, which he voiced. "But, she's my sister," he said, in a voice so quiet none of the others noticed.
###
It's begun. Formatting problems solved and all! Reviews, comments, questions, feel free to leave me a note. Either review or send an email. Thanks for reading, stay tuned.
Part one: Prologue: Silent Arrival
###
Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Plot belongs entirely to moi, although some is borrowed from the original series. Characters belong entirely to Toei Animation, etc.
Reminder: This is the next part in a series. If you read this and don't understand what's happening, it's advised that you read The Dark Bandit, and then go on to read The Reign of Courage and In The Dark. This story will make much more sense if you do.
Thank you, and enjoy.
###
In a small, grassy area to the east of the main roadway, the snow fell silently on the soft grass and bare-leaved trees. Any digimon in the area had migrated to warmer climates or taken shelter from the cold winter snows, which even at the end of season were thick and difficult to travel.
Hidden beneath the accumulated precipitation was a small wooden object with a few markings on it.
A solitary figure, clad in a thick woolen cape and hood, shimmered into existence a few paces from the object. It shivered in the cold, rubbing its hands along its arms to warm itself. A pair of blue eyes peered from under the hood, searching for something within the snows. They came upon the wooden object.
A few hesitant swipes at the sign and the snow was felled, revealing the dark markings in the wood. Aloud, the traveler read the words. His voice was only a whisper, and yet it echoed in the silence of the winter.
"The Village of Firsts."
Something was gone from him, and yet something still remained, for he could sense the ancient boundary as he never could before. Hesitantly, he lifted a hand to where he sensed the invisible wall was built, and though he could not feel it, the hairs upon his skin sensed now that they were passing through something unseen.
He stepped back, his boots crunching in the fallen snow, his hand pulling back as though he had touched something very cold - or very hot. In truth, the sensation was neither, and it was fear that coursed through his veins and filled his blood - the first emotion.
"If I am unworthy...," he muttered softly. The wind fluttered past him, gently, shifting the folds of his cloak. He wrapped his arms around himself again and took another step back, head bowed in miserable defeat. A single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped into the snow, a silent drop.
Suddenly, the wind increased in strength and speed, and rushed past him as though trying to blow him off the ground. He held his ground, planting his feet in the snow and pulling the cloak tighter around him. In the distance, he thought he could hear a loud rumbling sound. Hope entered his mind, warmed his heart, but another part of him smashed it down. It was not yet time.
The Primary Village was the same as he recalled, dimly, through the fog of his spell-clouded mind. The calming pastel colors, the large cubic shapes arranged in piles, even the rows of eggs and tiny baskets along the ground. For a brief moment, he forgot his sorrow, and felt relief in this childlike place. Relief. Another feeling for his mind to process.
"Have you come to destroy us, then?" asked a small, squeaky voice, and he observed a tiny digimon, perched upon the edge of one of the cubes that were scattered about. It was a Nyaromon, and it was staring at him with accusing eyes.
"No," he answered, uncertain of how he ought to reply.
"And why not?" questioned a different squeaky voice, this time from a small Yukimibotamon, on the ground at his feet. "You destroyed nearly all of us, why not the rest?"
For a long moment, the visitor was silent, thinking of a reply. "I don't want to destroy any longer," he answered. "I never wished to destroy, really...I...."
The Nyaromon and the Yukimibotamon both waited for a moment, watching as he tried to collect himself.
The words failed him. Suddenly feeling quiet exhausted, he sank to the ground, deprived suddenly of the strength to hold in the tears. "I'm sorry," he said, at first in a hoarse whisper, and then in a louder voice. "I'm sorry," he repeated, over and over again, never feeling as though it was enough.
The two digimon watching him said nothing, did nothing, only waited and watched until the tears had dried up and there were only sniffles. Then the Nyaromon spoke: "You were Chosen, and you failed in your duties."
"What?" he questioned, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Chosen for what?"
"Chosen as guardian of the defenseless," the Yukimibotamon squeaked out. "Defenseless humans, defenseless digimon."
He pondered this statement for a moment, while he rubbed the tears from his eyes. "I was," he said then, as though recalling a long-forgotten memory. With his right hand, he removed the strange device from his pocket. It was not the tiny, pale blue box he had first received, though. Now it was twisted, mutated, and black. He dropped it, afraid it still contained evil.
"The darkness took you," Nyaromon told him. "But you have escaped, it would seem."
"There is still good in you," the Yukimibotamon said, optimism in his voice. "Look again."
Once more he reached into the pocket of his pants and this time removed a tiny, rectangular object. It was pink, and there was a carving of a flower on it. "What is this?" he asked.
At the touch of it, the sight of it, the memory returned to his mind. Wormmon, slowly deleting, dissolving into nothingness. The light that had surrounded the small caterpillar as he disappeared.
Afterward, he'd wandered through the desert for what seemed like years, lost in a haze of confusion. He'd somehow returned to the same spot, and it was there that he'd found this tiny pink object. And it was then that he'd decided to come to this village, if it would have him.
"It is your strength," Nyaromon answered. "It is all the good inside you. You have escaped the darkness, but it has not been destroyed. And you are not released from your duties."
"Duties?" he echoed. "Of...guarding the defenseless? But how?"
SOnce you have been Chosen, you are always Chosen."
"What you thought was your weakness is your strength," Yukimibotamon told him. "Use it well."
"But - but how can I be a Chosen still?" he questioned. "I don't understand."
Nyaromon snorted dismissively. "We are not the digital gods, and so we do not have all your answers," the tiny digimon replied. It looked toward the digivice he'd tossed to the ground. "You still posses everything required."
"Don't worry," Yukimibotamon added encouragingly. "You'll succeed."
###
Miyako had been quite honestly astonished with how much the past few months had changed her sister's appearance. Momoe, now quite pregnant, was much larger than she'd last remembered, and had a rather extensive collection of baby clothes she'd knitted and sewn to prepare for the baby's arrival.
"I had some help," the elder of the sisters explained when Miyako expressed her surprise at the pile of garments. "Mimi, Sora, and Jun helped me. It was a bit better than simply sitting around worrying."
"Sitting around worrying?" Miyako echoed. "Oh, you needn't have worried." She waved a hand in a dismissive gestured and laughed, but turned aside. The truth was that Momoe would have had much to worry about if she'd known anything at all.
"I shall worry about you no matter what," Momoe replied. "Especially when Mother knows too little to worry about."
Miyako sighed and bowed her head regretfully. "I ought to have told them something, I suppose," she admitted.
"Something would have been nice," her sister agreed. "Though I cannot blame you for keeping silent. They hardly would have understood." She shook her head. "I can't say that I understand anything, myself."
"I'm not sure any of us do."
###
"She's gone where?" Daisuke echoed. He stood in the doorway of Koushiro's laboratory (it didn't seem safe to venture further) and stared in disbelief at the wizard.
"It was your idea, if I recall," the elder Chosen replied, only half visible behind a book. He looked up from the giant volume for a moment. "She came to me and told me that you were both concerned for Lady Ichijouji, and that it might be best to try to explain things to her. I helped her to understand as best I was able, and then we worked out how to explain this to Lady Ichijouji without upsetting her terribly."
Daisuke sighed, groaned, and then sighed again. "I didn't mean for her to go there on her own," he answered, shuffling his feet. "I thought a letter might have worked. And why hasn't she returned? It's been more than a week."
"It's possible she might have decided to stay longer, to assist Lady Ichijouji, to comfort her." Koushiro returned to his studies. "If you're wise, you'll follow her, tell them what's happened."
"That would work best if I could understand what's happened."
###
Iori stood at the window, peering down at the village at the foot of the castle. Many years before his birth, the village which bore the name of the kingdom had been a bustling city, filled with people, marketplaces, banks, and schools. By the time the youngest of the Chosen had arrived at the palace, however, Yagami City had become only a tiny village. The schools and banks were shut down, the marketplaces gone bankrupt or devoid of any sellable goods, the people mostly gone.
Apparently, the winter had been a busy time here, because now he could catch a glimpse of several construction projects taking shape below despite the cold and occasional snows of the past months.
"It's astounding," he stated simply.
"It is," Hikari agreed. She turned her head to face her brother, who was surveying the landscape as well. "How did you manage it?"
"It was discovered that no one wished to live in a place that is ugly," Taichi replied. "So, I decided that the best way to urge people to live in an ugly place would be to make it look nicer. Of course, this took money, but I expect that the investment will pay off."
Sora, who had apparently assisted in some way or another with these plans, was grinning widely. "What he means is that a few nicer roads, a few banks, and some loans to villagers who desperately needed home repairs made the place look quite a bit nicer," she translated.
"Therefore, more appealing," Iori finished. "Already it seems as though people have decided to move and build, and I'm certain that the spring will bring more."
###
"Enough talk," Nyaromon said impatiently. "I'm certain you didn't come here for our conversation."
"What you seek is over there," Yukimibotamon added, grinning. It had no arms nor legs, but it could point with its eyes, toward a patch of land where a dozen or so eggs had recently appeared.
He turned his head to see the place, and then turned back, but the two digimon had disappeared. Without bothering to ponder long on that, he stood and walked, hesitantly, to the eggs.
When he reached the spot, he stared blankly at the tiny, pastel colored objects with a sense of confusion. "They're defenseless," he thought to himself, remembering what the Yukimibotamon had said to him.
One of the eggs appeared ready to hatch. A tiny crack had appeared in the side, and it began to rock back and forth. The crack slowly grew larger, until the shell of the egg fell away and deleted, leaving a tiny green digimon in its place.
"Hello Ken," said the small creature.
###
Daisuke was packing, throwing all manner of clothes, shoes, and any other item he might find useful into a trunk. He wasn't bothering with things such as folding or placing, he was simply tossing the objects haphazardly. As he did so, he mumbled to himself under his breath.
"Are you leaving?' a voice questioned from his open doorway, and he paused long enough to glance up and see Hikari.
"Yes," he said. "I have to. My sister - she's gone to speak to Lady Ichijouji...."
"And you want to go and be with her," she finished. "I understand."
Daisuke paused in his actions, holding a shirt in his hand, and took a deep breath. "I don't envy her," he said then. "Either of them, really."
"Do you think he'll return?" Hikari asked. "From - wherever he has gone?"
He tossed the shirt into the trunk, which was by now mostly overflowing, and sighed. "I don't know," he answered after a moment's thought. He shrugged, then turned away from the trunk to open the door of a wardrobe that was leaning against the wall. "I think that at the end there, he seemed like himself again, or at least less like the Kaiser. I don't know where he's gone, though, or what he's thinking now." He sighed, rummaging through the wardrobe. "I used to be able to guess, but then things changed and then things changed more, and now I haven't a clue."
She said nothing, only watching him as he continued to rummage through the wardrobe, occasionally pausing to toss out a shirt or some other piece of clothing, which landed on the top of the pile. After a moment's thought, Hikari shook her head at his carelessness, and went to the trunk. She emptied it, and then began to fold the clothing and place it neatly inside the container. "Will you leave today?" she asked.
"Tomorrow," he replied, head still buried within the wardrobe. "Too late now, nearly dark already and not safe to travel, especially in the cold." He tossed a pair of pants over his head, and they landed on the bed beside the trunk.
Hikari carefully folded a shirt and set it atop the pile. "Are you going to stay long?"
"I hope not," he answered, voice still muffled. "I don't know what else there is to be done, and if at least one of us doesn't return before the spring planting, I expect my father will have a few words to say." There was a pause, and then he mumbled: "Where is it?"
"What are you looking for?"
"A book," Daisuke answered vaguely. He sighed, guessing that the object of his search was not in the wardrobe, and thus extracted his head. He turned and caught sight of Hikari's actions. "What are you doing?"
"Folding," she answered simply. "You never would have fit all of that," she gestured toward the pile, "into this trunk. What's so important about a book?"
"I m not sure."
"Well, perhaps this is a ridiculous suggestion, Daisuke, but it might possibly be on the bookshelf." Hikari gestured to the unit which stood against the wall opposite the wardrobe. He turned and stared as though he'd never before noticed that particular piece of furniture.
###
Despite the cold and the light flurries of snow that had begun to fall, Yamato was showing his brother the improvements to the village turned city first hand. Wrapped warmly in coats, hats, mittens, and scarves, the two brothers traversed the streets, admiring the construction projects, but with their minds actually far distant from the place they were now in.
When all the new buildings had been pointed out and commented on, they fell into a comfortable silence, each alone with his own thoughts. Their boots crunched in the dusting of new snow. As they trekked back to the palace, Takeru paused in his steps and turned back toward the town. A cold breeze blew past him, and he shivered, shoving his hands down into his pocket.
Yamato was a few steps beyond his brother when he noticed that Takeru's footsteps were not behind him. He turned and took the few steps back to where he had left him. "Must be strange, eh?" he said then. Takeru turned, curious, so he elaborated. "To see such development after so long in the woods, alone?"
The younger brother sighed, shrugging slightly. "I suppose," he answered after a moment of thought. "I just look at these villages and towns and cities now and think how lucky it is that they weren?t destroyed by Chimeramon." His mind filled with images of flaming buildings, panicked villagers, and one huge flying monster soaring overhead, screeching his anguished rage. He shivered, though not from the cold.
Yamato, who had never seen the monster his brother spoke of, was silent for a long moment as he considered his words. "Let's hope we are always so successful against our enemies."
###
Miyako left her sister with her knitting and wandered down the hall, alone with her thoughts and the silent calm. She was going to her room to think and to study as best she might, when she heard a triumphant "Aha!" come from one of the rooms.
Curiosity got the better of the young mage, and she turned her head toward the noise, then went and tapped lightly on the door from which the sound had come.
Hikari opened the door as Daisuke was busy searching through the book for some particular page. Miyako peered around the door frame, astonished to find him engaged in some scholarly pursuit, but more astonished by the sudden, sharp pain in her head which suddenly jabbed like a knife behind her eyes and cased her to flinch as though struck.
Hikari saw the motion and reached a hand out, asking "What's wrong, Miyako?" but even before the words had passed her lips, the pain was gone.
"I - nothing, now," Miyako answered, the pain having completely abated. "I just had a sudden headache, that's all. It's nothing."
"That's very strange," Hikari said, concern written all over her face. She watched as Miyako entered the room and seated herself on a chair that was free of clothing or other objects. "Maybe you ought to sleep?"
"Maybe," the other girl agreed. "But I wanted to know what the triumphant cry was about. Daisuke, cheering about a book? I must know why."
Hikari sighed, shook her head, and resumed folding the haphazard pile still on the bed. "I wish I knew. He spent the longest time searching for it when it was in front of him on the bookshelf and now he's searching for something in its pages that he?s yet to explain."
"I'll find it, just wait," Daisuke mumbled. He lifted his head for a moment. "I'm glad you're here, Miyako, you can help me make sense of it when I find it."
"When you find what?" Miyako asked, and Daisuke began, at last, to explain.
"It's a prophecy, I think," he answered, still turning pages at a fast rate of speed. "It was given to me in the bottom of the Kaiser's tower."
"Given to you?" Hikari questioned in disbelief. "By who?"
He shrugged. "Dunno. He never introduced himself. But let me explain. I entered the tower through the basement - by accident, actually, and into a room filled with books and some other mechanical objects. There was a - a someone there - I don't even know if he was a human or a digimon, because he wore a hood and stood in the dark. He used magic to take this book off the shelf and snow me a page of it, then told me to take the book, because it would be useful. It's a good thing he did, since I don't remember anything about what he showed me." He grinned sheepishly.
"How would you know it when you found it?" Miyako asked, beginning to feel a completely different sort of headache form.
Daisuke only shrugged again. "I'll know it when I see it, I'm sure of it," he answered again, confidence in his voice. A few moments later, however, he reached the end of the book and shut the back cover, shaking his head and frowning.
"There's something odd about that book," Miyako said when he shut it. "Can I see it?" He gave her the book, and when she took it, she could see much more clearly what must have caused the headache she'd felt and the strange feeling she'd had since she'd entered the hallway. Instinctively, she dropped it to the ground, the hand that had touched it already beginning to feel warm to the touch.
"What's wrong?" Hikari asked, sensing the panic that Miyako was trying not to show or feel.
Miyako didn't answer for a moment. She stared at the book on the floor - a large, plain book with a dark leather cover, ancient but otherwise quite ordinary looking. Yet the aura that she could sense around it was dark, and that aura combined with where Daisuke had found it, made her certain that the book must contain spells and prophecies of Dark Magic.
As soon as she had come to that conclusion, Miyako's brain began to spin with ideas. Koushiro would probably be awake still, it was not quite that late, and he would be curious about the book as well. But what would he advise? That the book be destroyed? Why would a book of Dark Magic have been given to Daisuke? Who would have given him such a book? And - to whom would it be useful?
"You'll have to take this to Koushiro," Miyako said finally, standing. "You." She pointed toward Daisuke, lest Hikari have some notion of touching the book. She knew not what would happen if Hikari, possessing of the Light Magic that was the opposite of the Dark contained in the book, touched the object, but she was certain it would not be beneficial. Daisuke, as devoid of magic, had been possessing the book for some time and not been harmed.
"Why?" Daisuke questioned, lifting the book easily. When his hands made contact with the leather cover, Miyako saw that the dark aura flared, but Daisuke appeared unharmed. Another mystery to ponder, but it would be best if none other touched it.
"I cannot touch that book," she answered. "It contains Dark Magic, I can see it, and I can feel it. It doesn't seem to affect you, so you must take it. Take it to Koushiro, though he won't be able to lay hands upon it, either. I don't know what to do with it, but he will."
###
In the lull that followed the defeat of the latest enemy, Koushiro had returned to pursuits that had been neglected during his stay in the wilderness. There were still five hundred and eighty four newly discovered ancient books to search through and prophecies and ancient spells to learn and study. With a fire blazing warmly, a comfortable easy chair positioned in front of it, and a hot mug of tea waiting for consumption, Koushiro was prepared for a night of study, undisturbed by the nighttime quiet. Tentomon rested upon a stack of books, content to study the topmost volume until he fell asleep and napped away the rest of the night.
Unfortunately, it was not to last. The wizard had gotten no further into the book than the first sentence when a cacophony of impatient knocks sounded on the thick wooden door to his laboratory. With a sigh of regret, Koushiro set aside his book and made his way through the clutter and piles to the door, calling "I'm coming," so to ease the mind of whoever wished to bother him.
Daisuke stood in the doorway, holding an ancient but otherwise ordinary looking book in his hands, a look of urgency on his face. Koushiro held out his hands reflexively, to take the book from him, but his visitor pulled the volume closer to his chest. "No!" he said, sharply, as though he were concerned the book would be damaged. "Miyako says you mustn't touch it."
Confused, Koushiro stepped aside to admit his visitor. "Then why do you bring it to me?" he asked.
Miyako herself, and Hikari as well, appeared in the doorway. "It has Dark Magic in it, Koushiro," the young mage explained. "It was given to him."
"Given to him? By whom?" the wizard questioned, and Daisuke was obliged to relate the incident once more. Afterwards, the wizard, rubbing his chin in thought, cleared a few books away from the nearest table and gestured for the book to be placed upon it.
"Do you know what we should do?" Daisuke asked.
"It's been many years since I last saw a book of Dark Magic," Koushiro said after a long pause. "They are rare in these parts, as rare as Dark Wizards themselves. Those who practice the darker magic were never popular with those that ruled this kingdom, for various reasons. If this book was given to you, Daisuke, then we must be wary. You say you don't know who it was that gave it to you?"
"No," he answered, shaking his head. "Do you think they gave it to me in order to be of some help? Or for some other purpose?"
"It's hard to say without knowing who it was that gave it to you," the wizard responded. "And without seeing what they wished you to see. You must find what it was you saw that day, and then we can begin to decide what to do with it."
Daisuke set the book on the table and opened it to a random page. Dark ink filled the pages in a flowing script, but none of it meant anything to him. None of it looked the least bit familiar. He turned the pages, shaking his head. Nothing reminded him of anything. "I don't know if I can," he said, and then shut the book again, turning aside. "It'll have to wait, though. I need to leave in the morning."
"I don't think you should," Miyako disagreed. She stood in the doorway, arms folded, an expression of concentration on her face, eyes locked on the book. "I think that whatever is in that book must be found out soon, and the sooner the better."
Daisuke opened his mouth to disagree, stepping away from the book, but Koushiro interrupted before he could speak. "I agree," the wizard stated. "Whatever the reason behind this gift, it was not given lightly. Whether it be for good or bad, Daisuke, it must be for something, and as such, it cannot wait."
He frowned, turning his gaze back to the book, and now casting a frown in its direction. "But my sister...," he mumbled, then sighed and collapsed into the rickety chair beside the table.
There was a weighty silence in the room which lasted a few moments. Koushiro sighed, as though to say that such things would happen, lifted his cup of tea, and took a sip. Miyako shuffled her feet and looked at the floor.
"Miyako can go instead," Hikari said then, emerging from her own thoughts and causing the others to jump. She'd been so silent that she?d almost gone unnoticed.
"What?" Miyako asked at the same time that Daisuke looked up from the floor with an expression of confusion.
"Miyako?" he echoed. "But - ."
"It's perfect," Hikari answered, pleased with the plan. "Miyako will go in your place."
"But - ," Daisuke began again, and Miyako interrupted this time.
"Yes," she said, nodding. "I will go in your place. It's perfect, don't you see?"
Daisuke appeared hesitant, but it was easy to see that there wasn't much choice and he was obviously outvoted. He shrugged, glanced back at the book, and then nodded reluctantly. To himself he admitted he was greatly relieved at escaping the trip, but this admission was immediately followed by a bit of guilt, which he voiced. "But, she's my sister," he said, in a voice so quiet none of the others noticed.
###
It's begun. Formatting problems solved and all! Reviews, comments, questions, feel free to leave me a note. Either review or send an email. Thanks for reading, stay tuned.