Enter The Light
Part Twelve: The Fate of the Future
Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Digimon – not mine. Plot – mine! Steal – no! Sue – no! Thank you. Enjoy!
The sky was completely dark now, and no light penetrated the heavy covering of bats and clouds. Only a few flickering torches gave off light and it was by these that Hikari could make out the cold eyes that fixed her with a chilling gaze.
Within one gloved hand, Vamdemon held a small leather sac, tied shut with a leather cord. He held it far from his body, as though he was afraid of it, and as soon as the robed servant had departed, he tossed the tiny bag on to a small wooden table that stood in the corner.
He stepped closer to Hikari. Swallowing her fear, she held steady and didn't step backwards, but nor did she look directly in to his eyes. She turned her head to the side and stared fixedly at the wall, trying to pretend that she was interested in the structure of it.
"It seems I have much work to do, if you are not even aware of your power. You will most certainly not know how to use it. Allow me to teach."
Curious, Hikari turned her face back to face the vampire digimon. She looked up, making contact with his cold, dark eyes. "What use do you have for whatever power you say that I have?" she wanted to know. "Haven't you enough of your own?"
Vamdemon laughed a mocking, humorous sort of laugh that one uses when one finds another's statement to be naïve and stupid. "You shall be most useful," he said simply, and turned away from her to peer out the window.
A silent figure, dressed entirely in black, perched atop the thick iron gate that surrounded the heavily fortified prison. There was little light to see by, and only an occasional flicker of illumination from the dark sky above, but he had no need for light. He knew this place, even if his memories were still half lost to him.
The Bakemon that had been endlessly patrolling the grounds were now nowhere to be seen, and an eerie quiet stillness blanketed the area almost as solidly as the bats above. With a soft whisper that barely created a dent in the cover of silence, the small green caterpillar on the shoulder of the figure spoke. His partner nodded once, to show that he had understood, but he had not heard. He didn't need to hear the words to know what had been communicated.
Moving with the swift dark silence that only a certain sort of people are capable of, the figure jumped quickly and almost effortlessly from the top of the iron gate onto the thick stone wall. There was only the softest thud that sounded on the stones when his feet made contact, and it was swallowed in the silence. When his feet landed on the dirt ground beyond the wall, beyond the tall gate, inside the prison, there was no sound to any but the most perceptive ears, and the inner courtyard was silent.
"There are no Bakemon," whispered the caterpillar. "What does that mean?"
In the blink of an eye, the dark shadow of a figure darted across the courtyard, past the empty cells that lined the walls, staring blankly at him. "I don't know," he answered once they were hidden again in the shadows of the walls. "It may be that they are afraid."
"What does a ghost have to be frightened of?"
"Its leader."
There was a heavy iron door at the opposite end of the long courtyard, an ominous object that seemed to be the very definition of doom and fear. "This has been too easy, yet it would have been too difficult before," said the figure, and with another blink he was beside the door, reaching out with one arm and taking hold of the handle.
The door was unlocked and gave way easily, though with a loud screeching grate of metal on metal. The hinges were rusty from the exposure to the open air, and the sound was deafening, echoing off the tall fortress walls. When it was fully opened, the intruder withdrew his hand and waited.
For a heartbeat, they waited, and the sound still echoed. It died, and for a heartbeat more it was silent, yet the ghosts had appeared, emerging from within the darker shadows where there had been no ghosts before. They had no playful laughter now, nor strange, grotesque grins, but solemn, glaring expressions that would inspire doom in their most fearsome opponents. Bakemon felt no fear, only a slight trepidation at the sight of their master, and some at stronger ghosts, yet none from living opponents, and even less from a single human and a small caterpillar defenseless within their circle.
In half the time of a human heartbeat, the lone human in the midst of the undead had seen the crowd surround him and made his conclusions. He cursed softly under his breath, a burst of air more than sound.
"Should I?" questioned the caterpillar, still whispering rather than speaking aloud, even though the spell of silence seemed to have been broken.
"Do it," was the answer.
Miyako thought that she could see a brief flash of light from somewhere beyond the walls, but it was only a short burst, hardly an eruption, and she was inclined to dismiss it as only her imagination. At any rate, none of the others seemed to notice.
She was in the lead of a small group of Chosen, holding alight a tiny but significant flame of light that she had only just learned how to conjure. It wasn't much different from the spell of fire, and it was not difficult for her to maintain. Behind her, Mimi, Iori, and Takeru followed in silence. The only sound was the occasional gasp from someone at some imagined specter in the darkness.
Yet there was nothing. As they walked, the soft grass was covered in cold, wet dew, and their footsteps were soft and quiet as the prison grew ever closer. There was no sign of another living creature, alive or asleep, for as far as the flame's light could carry. There was no sign of any undead creature either, though the field had been crawling with ghosts before.
With one hand, each of the travelers kept a close hold upon his or her digivice, and for their part, the digimon remained as close as they could to their partners. Hawkmon was walking at Miyako's feet. She held her skirts up from the ground in her free hand, bunched along with her digivice, and he walked so near to her that she could feel his feathers tickle her ankles. Patamon was perched atop Takeru's head, his tiny paws clutching tight to his partner's hair so that Takeru almost felt pain. Mimi and Palmon held hands tightly, the plant digimon's vine-like fingers stretching to meet with the girl's.
There was no sound of footsteps, only a dull silence, and the distant sound of the flapping of many wings of many bats. No one dared look up.
When they were but steps away from the river separating them from their destination, Miyako curled her fingers into a fist, extinguishing the fire and plunging them back into darkness. She shut her eyes and waited for the sign.
The tiny cell had been dim before, with only a single, flickering torch, but now, the torch having been extinguished, Shijo found himself plunged into complete darkness. He was not ordinarily afraid of the dark, but this was an exception. This seemed darker than any night, for there were neither windows nor openings within the tiny room. It seemed suddenly colder, too, and he felt afraid without Koromon. He had never been separated from his partner before, and was certain that if Koromon had been with him, he would not have been quite so frightened.
There was a noise in the hall, the first he had heard since the door had opened and the princess had left him. It was a quiet tapping in the distance. Without really knowing why, the boy got to his feet. There was the grating sound of screeching metal that was so loud that he covered his ears with his hands and stepped back away from the door, and then it stopped and there was silence.
The door was flung open sharply, and a sole figure rushed in, a silent shadow of a human being that Shijo recognized immediately, his fear slowly abiding. A dim light followed the newcomer in from the hallway behind.
"You must hurry," said the stranger that he knew, and Shijo didn't bother with words, simply nodded.
"It didn't work," he said when he had left the cell and was following down the hallway. "They took it from me. I don't know what they did with it, but the princess didn't get it – ."
The other stopped short in his tracks. "The princess?" he echoed, seeming to be surprised for the first time. Before the boy could answer, he nodded and had begun moving again, speaking now as though to himself, lost within a memory. "Yes, that's right. I should have known."
For some time they hurried down the hall, stopping and peering down intersecting corridors to make certain that no Bakemon were approaching. It didn't seem as though they were getting any closer to the exit, and Shijo ventured to ask, "Sir? Where are we going?"
"To rescue the digimon," answered the other. "It'll all have been in vain if she hasn't got her digimon, and she doesn't."
"Take this," said the vampire digimon then, and he thrust the tiny sac toward Hikari. She caught it and fumbled for a moment with the cord before she managed to open it.
"Where did you - ?" she demanded when it was empty of its contents – a single golden circle of metal, just a bit too narrow to be a bracelet and a bit too wide to be a ring – at least for a human hand. "What did you do with Tailmon?"
"Quiet," Vamdemon answered, his voice a stern order, his face an amused grin. He reached out, long arm extending to his thin fingers, encased in a leathery glove, and placed one upon her cheek, just below her left ear.
She found she couldn't move, couldn't turn her head, and some part inside of her screamed out in pain, although she wasn't being harmed in anyway. Some part of her shivered, frightened of his touch, and another part of what was to come afterwards. She had felt dizzy before, and now, suddenly, she felt her dizziness increase.
"Don't give in, child of Light," Vamdemon advised, his voice like the soothing, healing sensation of the right creams upon a burn. "Fight it; draw your power to the surface." He was speaking softly now, barely a whisper.
Somewhere behind him, the bats parted, and the bright light of the full moon made it seem again like daylight beyond the prison.
"It's beautiful," Sora breathed, for the moon seemed much bigger and brighter than she had ever seen before. "Beautiful."
"It's light," Koushiro noted, a frown on his face.
"Should we - ?" Jyou wanted to know.
"No," Taichi interrupted before he could finish. "It is light, but it is no eruption. Wait, just a bit longer."
At the end of a thousand corridors that must have covered the distance of the entire kingdom, there was a door – the only door that was locked, and for that reason, the very door that they had been searching for. Shijo pulled upon the handle with all his might and it steadfastly refused to move even a tiny bit. There was no shifting of hinges. The shadowy stranger took hold of the door and tugged as well, but there was no difference.
"Can't you do something?" Shijo questioned, looking toward his companion. "Some magic?"
"I told you I am no wizard," answered the other, and let go of the door handle, sighing. "No, there's got to be some way to get it open." He frowned in thought for a moment.
There was a soft sound of a footstep on the rough stone floor, and another figure appeared. Shijo recognized him – the silent, rag-clad boy that had taken the object from him at the command of the man in the black cloak. "What do you want?" he demanded, stepping forward. If no magic intervened, he thought, it would be rather difficult for the boy to manage to overtake him.
His companion, however, laid a hand upon his shoulder and stepped forward. "Why has he sent you here?" he asked.
The boy held out a small metal ring, from which dangled a single key. "To give you this," he answered.
Stunned, Shijo stared, mouth agape. "Why?" he wanted to know. "Is it some sort of a trap?"
With a shrug and a shake of the head, the boy answered only: "I know neither my master's wishes nor his thoughts, only his orders. He has instructed me to give you the key. I know of no trap."
Before Shijo could say another word, the shadowy figure had spoken: "Thank you."
Another shrug, and then the strange creature had disappeared.
"Fight?" Hikari echoed dimly, the word suddenly without meaning.
"Fight me," said the soft voice. "Release the power inside of you."
She thought to open her mouth and to explain that she didn't quite understand, but Hikari found that movement was nearly impossible, and that speaking another word would take far more energy than she would have in sixteen lifetimes. Her knees felt weak, the world feeling as though it was so distant from her.
It was as though she were drifting into a long-needed sleep, an exhaustion that she could no longer battle effectively. She felt warm and cold at the same time, and then she felt neither, for the sensation of temperature was of the physical world, and she was no longer aware of the physical.
She was in another world for a moment, a distant dreamy land of peace, and then she became aware of the smooth, cold metal at her fingertips and the soft, light touch of leather upon her left cheek, slowly sliding its way down the side of her face.
"I had thought you might be dead," said the feline digimon bluntly, addressing the shadowy stranger as though she knew him personally. Shijo, reunited with Koromon, only thought briefly of the meaning of this statement.
"Very nearly so for a while," answered the other in the sort of voice that suggested he didn't particularly want to discuss the matter of his own death. Shijo could understand that. He turned his head, suddenly, as though he had heard something alarming, and then said, "I must go. The boy will help you find her." He pointed toward Shijo, and then was gone before any thing else could be done.
The cat digimon turned toward Shijo. "Let's hurry," she said impatiently.
A strange feeling came over Hikari while she was drifting towards sleep and feeling as though she were perilously close to exhaustion. At the point in which she thought she might lose consciousness and drift into a heavy sleep, she suddenly began to feel a sort of calm serenity, a peacefulness she had only a few times before been acquainted with.
There was something else there, too, a feeling that she could not really explain in any words that she knew. The exhaustion was still present, but it was distant and she was not aware of it in the way that she thought she ought to have been. The dizziness seemed not to affect her in the way that it ought to have. Her vision was blurry and everything now seemed brighter. There was a distant high pitched sound in the distance, but it might only have been her imagination. Over it, Vamdemon was laughing, a soft rumbling sound that advanced slowly into a riotous laughter.
There was the dull sound of a banging at the outer door, but even this was distant, as though she were hearing through someone else's ears, through someone else's body.
Then, there was an explosion.
The door was a heavy iron blockade, like all the doors in the prison, and no amount of banging or pulling would open it. There was a torch burning dimly on the outside wall, and Shijo had taken hold of it quickly so that he could examine the door. For some reason that he had never quite understood, the flames had grown stronger the moment he moved near to the door, and the explosion happened immediately afterwards.
The feline digimon recovered quickly, bursting through the remaining small flames. "Hikari!" she shouted, ignoring the heat rising around her.
The princess looked pale and thin and weak, and she was kneeling on the floor, her face white as a sheet. It might have been his own exhaustion or it might have been the flames still surrounding the empty hole where the door had once been (it was now lying upon the ground, uselessly), but Shijo thought that the paleness was nearly ethereal, extending beyond her body so that it seemed as though she was glowing a soft white glow. She seemed not to notice them, her face turned in their direction but her eyes not seeing them; she was looking at something completely beyond what was in the room itself.
Before her stood a tall, thin digimon with a long dark cape, white skin, dark gloves, and a bright red mask. He spun quickly at the sound of the explosion and reacted most quickly, waving his arm in a wide, sweeping arc. "Bloody Stream!" he shouted, and a flash of bright red light filled the boy's vision.
There was a cry of pain that might have come from the princess, might have come from her partner, might have come from both. The white feline digimon was now lying upon the ground, struggling to her feet. She looked up and faced the one who had attacked her with a vicious glare full of hatred and righteous anger.
The Bakemon returned, a swarm of ghosts that appeared from nowhere and surrounded the room before Shijo had even finished getting to his feet. The tall, thin digimon shouted a command that was virtually indistinguishable to human ears, and another ghost materialized from the floor, carrying a long, curved blade attached to a chain. A single feline appeared at the open window, identical to the princess' partner save for her color, a solid black.
There was a moment of tense silence. "Where is the human?"
The leader of the ghosts shook his head, indicating his lack of knowledge, and the feline shrugged casually. "I wasn't aware he needed a babysitter," she said, a trace of sarcasm in her tone.
While distracted by his minions, the tall, thin digimon had paid no attention to the white feline, and she had made her way to the princess and was now beside her. She cupped her partner's hand in her own. "Hikari."
"Silence!" shouted the leader. "Bloody Stream!" Shijo could see little in the room due to the flashes of red light, and when he could, both of the feline digimon were lying upon the floor, and Hikari had an expression of pain on her face. She had squeezed her eyes shut and put her hands on the floor. Strangely enough the glow around her seemed to grow brighter even as the flames were dying down.
"Master, please," cried the dark feline, moaning in pain. "Forgive me."
He paid her no attention, but turned back toward the princess. "I have little patience remaining, human child," he said, and his voice was a vicious, grating whisper. He spat each word out violently now rather than gently caressing it as he had done before. The princess looked up at him, appearing to be seeing him for the first time.
"You cannot have it. I will destroy you," she answered, her voice calm and serene and confident. He laughed.
"Destroy me? I have no patience for insolence any longer!" He raised his arm once more, and, in an almost graceful motion, brought it down once more in a wide, slow arc, the red light trailing behind him. "Bloody Stream!" he said, his voice almost a shrieking cacophony of sound.
"No," Shijo gasped, for he saw that the attack was likely to make contact with the princess. He dashed forward, through the vacant doorway, but stumbled and fell to the ground, his hands making contact with the cool tile that lined the floor.
"Move!" shouted the white feline, and it was only by her quick actions that the princess was shoved aside, just out of the reach of the attack. Part of the wall was scorched – a black line that ran up the solid stone and left an indentation that was easily as thick as a finger.
With what seemed like a great amount of effort, Hikari gracefully rose to her feet, one hand clenched tightly around an object she held in her hand, the other on one that hung round her neck. She opened her hand, revealing a small golden ring shaped object, which she tossed to her partner. "Are you ready?" she asked.
She nodded, taking the object and affixing it in its proper position – the end of her long tail. "Let's do it."
"Bloody Stream!" the evil digimon shouted once more, and the red light was bright, but another light was even brighter. Shijo raised an arm to shield his face, and squinted through the glow.
"Tailmon evolve!"
The sky had been illuminated by the bright moon before, but now the light was beyond that of the day time. In every direction for days on end, a bright flash of light could be seen, originating from the eastern corner of a tiny village.
Of course, the only ones who had escaped the spell of darkness and could see the light were the Bakemon, and they were afraid of the light, hiding in the cold dark places within the prison walls. It offered little refuge from the power of the light.
And there were the Chosen, of course, who, standing in wait just across the river from the prison, could see the bright light and knew then that this was the eruption they had been waiting for.
The unfortunate Bakemon that had been in the courtyard moaned and writhed in pain. A few of the weaker ones deleted instantly, and the others wailed their distress, hurrying to return to the cool darkness of the inner walls. Those that remained outside could only groan and wail in agony.
There was another light, though not as intense, and the warrior that had been there was replaced by a tiny green caterpillar once more. He looked up at his partner, who had emerged into the courtyard only seconds before.
"I'm not sure if I should feel sorry for them," he said, taking the caterpillar in his arms. "Let's go."
Squinting through the light, Miyako could vaguely make out the location of the source of light. "I had no idea," she muttered, half to herself, half to Hawkmon. "No idea she could do that…."
"What's happened?" Takeru shouted, as though there were noise, which there was not. There was only a silence that came with the light. He shouted to hear himself over the silence.
"I'm not sure!" Miyako called back to him. She was still wearing the spectacles – she wondered if she'd be completely blinded without them.
"I think it's an evolution," Palmon stated plainly, and a moment later, when the light had faded, they could see that he was right.
"Angewomon!"
Shijo could hardly see through the light, for it was brighter than anything he'd seen before. For a moment, he could not come near to understanding what was going on. He was only aware of the world disappearing around him, and then he could feel his partner in his arms and knew that he was alive.
The light had faded, and then he could see dim shapes that slowly came back into focus as the creatures that had been in the room before. The leader of the ghosts had disappeared into shadows as only a ghost is able. The black feline was screaming even louder than she had been before the light had appeared, and then she disappeared, deleting, particles scattering in a miniature explosion. Her screams faded and then cut off abruptly. Shijo shivered, and clutched his Koromon even tighter, backing up against the wall
"An evolution," Koromon whispered, awed, for he had paid little attention to the cat's deletion. Shijo turned his head then and saw that the tall, thin digimon, seemed to shrink, and beside the princess, where the white feline had stood, was now hovering a larger humanoid digimon.
Even now, the new digimon, Angewoman, seemed to be emitting the same glowing aura, and Shijo felt some sort of peace at the sight of her, and of the princess, who must be her partner. She was a magnificent digimon, a humanoid like he had never seen before, only heard legends about, and then distant, unbelievable legends. She had pale skin like a human and long flowing blond hair, and huge, spotless white wings that extended from her body.
Shijo felt very safe in her presence.
Although the light had mostly faded, the sky was bright as day now, and the covering of bats had, although not dispersed, become less oppressive than before. The clouds seemed to lessen a bit. The sound of hundreds upon hundreds of the tiny winged creatures squeaking and crying out in the night, perhaps in pain from the bright light, filled the air and assaulted ears.
"That was an eruption!" Taichi shouted over the noise. "That was definitely an eruption!" Without waiting for further discussion, he took off at a run in the direction of the prison, the direction from which the light had come, running at full speed, stumbling over rocks and twigs and mounds of dirt that covered the ground and impeded his progress.
"Taichi! Wait!" Sora called, and hurried after him. After a moment, the others followed.
"You shall not pass over this bridge. You shall not enter the fortress of the master," said a voice. It was low, deep, and solemn, and it belonged to Phantomon, the leader of the ghosts. He hovered above the wooden planks, scythe outstretched, prepared for battle.
"I don't think you're in a position to stop me!" Taichi declared. He was running, still, had never stopped running. "Agumon!" he shouted.
"I'm ready!" Agumon called from somewhere behind him, still running.
Prepared for what was to come, Sora shielded her eyes with her hand. The light was barely a fraction of the intensity of the previous blast, it was still enough to inflict momentary blindness. Over the silence of the light, Agumon could be heard shouting.
"Agumon evolve! Greymon!"
The massive dinosaur digimon emerged from the fading light and bared his teeth, releasing a massive roar. His teeth, sharp and shiny and large, gleamed down at the solitary ghost.
"Is that all?" Phantomon questioned dully. He waved his scythe in a wide swoop.
An army of Bakemon appeared from behind the mist that enshrouded the prison behind him, rising from the ground.
"Where did they come from?" Jyou demanded.
"Ghosts can be invisible, Jyou," Gomamon reminded him.
"Ah…should we not be of some assistance?" Tentomon hummed.
"Let's do it!" Yamato shouted, dashing ahead and pulling his digivice from the pocket of his coat as he did so. "Gabumon!"
"Gabumon evolve! Garurumon!"
This was going to be out sooner, but I had midterms, and then spring break, and so yeah. Didn't happen. Still working on it! Thanks for reading! Stay tuned!