Enter The Light

Part Thirteen: Defeat and the Six Days' Time

Standard Disclaimer Thingie: Plot is mostly mine, however pitiful it may be. Digimon, etc, is not. Don't steal, don't sue, don't forget to moo.

Moo.

For what seemed like an eternity, the beautiful digimon hovered just outside the building, light ebbing and flowing from her in soft, gentle waves. Shijo could not take his eyes off of Angewomon, and he was unaware for the longest and shortest moment in his life of nothing else in the world.

"No!" said a deep voice and then Shijo turned his head from the window to see that the tall, thin digimon wearing the long cape was speaking. He waved his arm, and the entire chamber was thrown into turmoil. Shijo felt himself flung backwards, and he was aware of a strange sensation of flying before he came to a sudden stop against a hard object. There was a painful throb that began in his head and the world spun around him. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he saw strange spots of light speckling his vision.

There was a cold breeze then and Shijo became aware that the outside wall had been torn away. The heavy stones had collapsed and fallen to the ground some distance below, and now the wind, having grown in strength and power, whipped through the empty framework of a room, further disturbing the few things within it.

"I'll destroy you," the digimon declared. He seemed to have been growing larger; increasing in size until now he seemed bigger than the room. Indeed, he was no longer inside the room, but outside, hovering in the air just beyond the edge of the room. The air around him felt colder and stiller than before, and filled with evil.

By the best count Sora could estimate, there were three dozen Bakemon, but that amount seemed low, and seemed like a number that couldn't fully describe the sea of ghosts that stretched between the prison and the opposite bank. They hovered over the water and the land alike, having neither respect nor interest in solid ground. Each of them grinned a grotesque smile that sent shivers down the spine of all who saw them.

At the head of the pack stood the leader of the ghosts, Phantomon, carrying a well-polished scythe and a long metal chain. He had no face, no expression, and yet he seemed pleased, smug.

"I think that I can most certainly stop you," the ghost-leader answered. He waved his scythe once and the chain attached to it swung wide over the water. Taichi dodged, but only just barely, and the edge of the sharp metal scraped the side of his arm. A single red line appeared, and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his arm.

There was a rumbling sound, as though the earth was shaking, and then the army of Bakemon was augmented by at least six monstrous red dinosaurs. Tyrannomon.

In the courtyard of the prison fortress, the Bakemon that had been so ominously looming had abruptly disappeared, off to fight some other enemy. There was a brief moment of calm, in which the human but not the small green caterpillar relaxed. The evil was still present, but the imminent threat was not.

Then the ground shook violently and heavy stones and bricks began to fall from some sky-high point above.

For a moment, both stood still, staring upward, frozen and paralyzed by the fear, and then instinct kicked in, self preservation becoming suddenly important, and the human scooped up his partner in his arms and dashed quickly for the building. The door had been shut, but the doorway was a safer refuge than anything in the courtyard, and he pressed himself flat against the solid door behind him and waited out the falling rocks.

"This place is falling apart, it seems!" he shouted to be heard over the rumbling.

The caterpillar digimon in his arms nodded, blue eyes wide. "It would be wise for us to leave, then, right?"

Miyako shielded her eyes as a quick succession of lights suddenly flashed, brightly across the otherwise dark riverside, evolutions.

"Piyomon evolve! Birdramon!"

"Tentomon evolve! Kabuterimon!"

"Gomamon evolve! Ikkakumon!"

"Palmon evolve! Togemon!"

Takeru had his digivice ready, gripped tightly in his hand, and Patamon was ready, prepared to leap off his partner's head and fly into battle, but Wizarmon held out his staff, as though to halt him.

"I think it's best if you wait," the wizard digimon said in a solemn tone. "I think it's best if we back away from danger for the moment."

"Bloody Stream!" the caped digimon shouted, waving his arm in a wide arc. A bright red, light the color of blood, appeared, and Shijo was momentarily blinded. He hoped the attack was not going to go near him, for he would be helpless to defend himself.

Angewomon had moved faster than the stream, though, and she had taken the princess in her arms and brought her to safety, in the corner, near Shijo. She was gone again before the boy could clearly see her, but he felt healed and reassured by her presence. Koromon in his arms was bouncing with life, feeling some sort of renewing energy that he had not experienced before.

The princess was quiet, watching all with her wide eyes, and yet Shijo wondered if she were seeing anything at all. He felt as though he ought to say something, but he did not know what, and so he remained silent.

"Bloody Stream," the caped digimon shouted again, and again the bright red light appeared. This time, Shijo did not blink, did not shield his eyes, and the beautiful angel digimon gracefully and easily dodged the attack with little effort. The enemy seemed enraged, and seemed to grow even larger with the power of his anger, but at the same time, he curiously was slower. The attacks continued, each missing by an even wider margin, and each time Angewomon seemed more graceful, quicker.

The battle began with a rumble, a scream, a roar, and a bang. A huge explosion of noise was heard as the two sides battled over the river. Miyako, Iori, Takeru, and Wizarmon retreated at the advice of the wise digimon and watched the battle from a distance. They climbed to the top of a hill that rose just behind them. From that height, the battle seemed a succession of lights and noise blurred together, and Miyako was relieved not to be in the midst of it.

Despite having followed Wizarmon's advice, Takeru was restless, continuously clenching and unclenching his hands as he watched with a concerned expression on his face. Miyako, too, considered running into the battle, and only her trust in Wizarmon was enough to halt her. Iori seemed calm, but she knew him well enough by now to know that he, too, was in some way wishing he could dash off to battle – his eyes were flashing with hidden emotions.

From the hill, they could see other things as well. They could see that a large portion of the upper levels had been demolished, and the wall had fallen in pieces to the ground below. And, they caught their first sight not only of the enemy they were fighting, but also of the creature that had evolved to fight it.

"Hikari is up there, isn't she?"

There was a disadvantage to being in the midst of a battle, and that disadvantage was that it was very difficult to see or to protect oneself from harm. Once the two sides had clashed over the river, Sora tried her best to keep an eye on her partner and also to get herself out of danger, but it was not the easiest tasks. Birdramon took to the air immediately, flying out of sight beyond the crowd of Bakemon that surged towards her when the battle began.

She had been standing a bit back from the edge of the river, eyes staring out at the army of Bakemon that had appeared before them, and then the battle had begun and suddenly she found herself surrounded by ghosts and giant feet, legs and she wanted nothing more than to escape, but there didn't seem to be anywhere to run to.

"Sora!" came a voice, and she felt a hand grab hold of her wrist and pull her, quickly through the crowd of ghosts.

Miyako felt strangely disconnected from the battle below her, which was raging on with predicted violence and had mostly degenerated into a mass of bodies and the occasional burst of fire or lightning. Her attention was strangely elsewhere, upon the disintegrating fortress-like prison, from which she could sense a concentration of magic the likes of which she had never been aware of before.

There was Hikari in a way that Miyako had never felt before but was undeniably the princess, a strange sort of strength and a powerful weakness that made her feel both empowered and exhausted at the same time. Miyako wondered if Hikari was feeling either of those two feelings at the present time or if she was feeling something completely different.

Wizarmon was turning his head to look in the same direction, and when he saw her expression, which must have been confused astonishment, the magical digimon nodded solemnly. "I sense it as well," he said. "The battle between the dark and the light."

Takeru, mostly unaware of the power of the magic, frowned and turned his head toward the upper levels of the now partially destroyed building, where he could see nothing but flashes of red light. "I hope she's okay," he said. "Are you sure I cannot help?"

"Not at this time," the wizard replied with a shake of the head.

"I hope Hikari wins," Patamon stated simply.

Miyako had shifted her attention to the lower levels of the building now, for she sensed another magic, though fainter and dimmer. It was so faint that she shut her eyes and used all her other senses to try to determine what it was, and then she opened her eyes and removed the spectacles she had been wearing most of the evening.

The world became a swirling mass of colors once more. From the highest tower of the prison she could see the origin of a bright white light which was nearly invisible without the sight of magic, and which continuously clashed with a dark shadow. A bright red light laced with darkness flashed between them, and from the clash emanated a powerful energy she could feel within her bones.

Below, though, was something else entirely, and though a dim darkness surrounded the area in its entirety, Miyako sensed and now saw a completely different sort of magic in the courtyard below the tower.

She gasped, biting back a mild curse, and then turned to her partner. "If you evolve," she said, "is there a way that we might get over the water, over there?" She pointed to the courtyard.

Hawkmon peered thoughtfully over the battle scene below. "Maybe," he answered tentatively.

"Why do you want to go over there?" Iori asked sharply, and Takeru also turned a curious face toward her.

"I – I sense something strange…something familiar…," she answered vaguely, breaking eye contact and glancing back toward the prison.

"What is it?" Takeru questioned.

"I'm not sure…."

"You are sure," Iori retorted, frowning now. "What is it you sense? Or should I say who?"

"I'm not sure," Miyako repeated, and hesitated. "I think it might be Ken."

"Are you all right?" Taichi questioned. He was still holding her arm, even though it wasn't completely necessary now.

Distractedly, Sora looked upward to see her partner soaring overhead, and she nodded vaguely. "I'm fine," she said. She felt her face turn red and felt embarrassed by her own embarrassment.

"Look out," Jyou's voice called, and faintly Mimi's voice could be heard, screaming out a similar warning.

Sora turned, searching for the source of the danger, and Taichi instinctively darted out of the way of something – she couldn't yet determine what – pulling her along with him as he still held her wrist in his hand.

A massive fireball was soaring toward them, and Sora turned her head then to see what she was running from and was certain it would hit them, only then it seemed to bounce off an invisible air, and she realized that Koushiro must have shielded them. She forced her feet to stop and pulled Taichi to a stop as well before he ran into the other edge of the shield.

He had seen, though, and his face was white with something that Sora could only describe as fear, though she had never seen it so expressed on his face. Taichi wiped his brow with the back of his free hand and slowly regained the color of his skin.

"Are you all right?" Sora questioned, and he grinned a grim sort of smile.

"I'll be fine."

Iori had grown silent, his lips drawn in a tight line and his eyes narrowing. He glanced in the direction Miyako had indicated, frowned deeper, and then relaxed his face with a deep sigh. "How is it possible…?"

"He's Chosen as well, if you haven't forgotten," Miyako returned. "If the spell was designed somehow not to affect the Chosen, then that certainly explains how he managed to stay awake."

Takeru shook his head, the shocked expression finally leaving his face. "What – what is he doing here?"

"He has good in him," Miyako told him, her voice a scolding tone. "A lot more than you know of. Perhaps he's here to help!"

Iori was silent, shaking his head. "I don't know…."

"All the same, I'm going to find him," she told them, and turned away.

"You're not going alone," Takeru told her, following after. "I'll go with you."

Although he had been attacking continuously, the evil digimon hadn't managed to score a single hit. His attacks seemed to be growing slower, his movements dulled, all while the angel was growing more graceful and quicker. Finally, he paused, frustrated beyond his ability to express in words.

Hikari took a step forward in the silence before he could speak. "You won't succeed," she told the digimon. She was pale, but in her eyes was strength of spirit that Shijo would have thought impossible. "I'll destroy you. I'll destroy you now."

"Fool!" cried the digimon loudly. "You cannot destroy me!"

"You are the fool, Vamdemon," she answered simply. "Angewomon."

The angelic digimon nodded gracefully, and then stretched one arm out. Between her thin fingers appeared a thin beam of light which slowly grew longer, and then the second arm bent to pull a string of light which extended from the first shaft.

At first, Shijo didn't understand, but then he realized that it was a bow, made entirely of light. With an emotion hovering between fear and awe, he gripped his partner Koromon tightly to his chest, eyes wide.

"No," Miyako said, shaking her head so sharply that her hair gently smacked into the side of her face. Her eyes were stern, and for the first time Takeru was aware of the power of her magic and her anger, and he reluctantly stepped backwards.

"You can't go alone," he protested, but the words seemed weak to him. Miyako turned away from him once more and took a single step before all activity stopped, for at that exact moment, there was another bright light emanating from the top of the prison. It wasn't as bright as the first light, but it was powerful enough that they had to shield their eyes.

"What's that?" Iori wondered, putting a hand to his brow.

Suddenly, the sounds of battle around them went silent, for all the Bakemon had disappeared, and Phantomon as well. The Tyrannomon were the only things remaining, but they were still, moaning and groaning in some sort of pain.

"What's happening?" Mimi questioned. "Did we win?"

"That was too easy," her partner disagreed.

"No," Jyou interjected. "Look!"

The light was slowly growing more powerful, and soon it became necessary for everyone to shield their eyes.

"Holy Arrow!" the angelic digimon stated, and then the light became blinding.

Slowly, Shijo opened his eyes, head spinning. He'd been sleeping, he thought, and that explained the peaceful yet lightheaded sensation he was feeling. Someone was gently shaking him, and he mumbled, unwilling to wake up.

"Is he hurt?" said a voice he distantly remembered but couldn't name. It was a woman's voice, and it sounded concerned.

"I don't think so," answered another voice, younger sounding. "Probably just exhausted, poor thing."

"Shijo? Wake up," said the woman's voice, and again gently shook his shoulder. Slowly, the boy forced his eyes open.

"What happened?" he mumbled. The world spun, blurry, for a moment, and then the young woman's face came into focus. "Did you win?" he asked.

She smiled, a genuine sort of happiness, and nodded. "Yes. He's gone. It's all right, now."

The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around at what remained of the tower room. Any furniture that had been there was now gone, and three of the four walls had disappeared, leaving only a few scattered stones around at the edge of the room. The only wall that still stood led back inside the building.

"Does this mean I can go home?" he asked, getting to his feet. Koromon hopped impatiently on the floor beside him, and he lifted his partner in his arms.

The lightheadedness had lasted only for a brief moment, and when it passed, Sora found that the world looked vastly different. All the digimon had de-evolved, and the Bakemon and Tyrannomon had disappeared. The Chosen stood around, rubbing their eyes and looking about in confusion.

"What's happened?" Mimi asked, blinking in confusion. "Is it over?"

"It must be," Yamato said, pointing toward the building across the way. "Look. They're gone, both of them."

"So they are," Koushiro agreed, nodding. He was frowning though. "Still, the sky…."

The others glanced upward, and they could see that the sky was still darkened, and not only by a huge cover of clouds.

"That's not all," Jyou noted, turning around and pointing his arm across the river. The nearby village was still silent, no sign of movement from within any of the tiny huts or shops or in the streets.

Sora was dimly aware of the hand that still gripped her own, and she squeezed it, almost involuntarily, staring at the sky. "Do you still have that prophecy, Koushiro?" she questioned.

Takeru and Iori were making their way toward the rest of them, but Miyako was not with them, nor was Wizarmon. In fact, there was no sign of either of them.

Koushiro rummaged in his pockets and produced a piece of paper on to which the prophecy had been copied. He peered over it with a deep frown.

"Where's Miyako?" Sora asked Takeru when he had come close enough to speak with.

Takeru gestured, pointing with one arm toward the prison. "She said she sensed something different closer to the building, and that it might be Ken. She went to investigate, and Wizarmon went with her."

There was a moment of stunned silence in which all the others considered this new bit of information. "Is this possible?" Mimi wondered. Eyes turned in Koushiro's direction. He looked up from the paper with a thoughtful expression.

"Miyako seemed to think so," Patamon reported. "She said that Ken was still Chosen, so if the sleep spell didn't affect us, it shouldn't affect him, either."

"True," Koushiro said. He sighed. "She shouldn't have gone, though. I think it's best we stick together. I'm certain this isn't over yet."

"Why?" Yamato wanted to know. "I mean, aside from the state of the sky…." He glanced upward, a grim expression on his face.

"That's exactly it, actually," the wizard replied, passing the other his paper. "The prophecy says that after the light has erupted, six days will pass in darkness."

"The sky covered by many bats," Tentomon finished.

"The sky is certainly covered," Mimi put in, and shivered. "Six days of darkness?"

"Hasn't there been enough darkness?" Palmon complained. "I miss the light."

"What happens after the six days have passed?" Jyou wondered.

"We'll find out," Taichi said.

Something, Miyako could scarcely imagine what, had wreaked havoc upon the once sturdy prison fortress. Crossing the river, she saw the building for the first time with clarity despite the continuing darkness.

There were sturdy stone walls which surrounded on all sides an open courtyard. A heavy iron gate blocked entrance and exit from the courtyard, and from the center rose a tall tower. It was the top of this tower which had taken severe damage, and which was now held up by only a single, wavering wall and a few wooden posts. The courtyard, Miyako could see from beyond the gate, was filled with heavy stones and bricks that had fallen from the uppermost tower.

Wizarmon followed Miyako toward the gates, silent. In a way, Miyako was assured by his presence. She would have preferred to go alone, but if it were necessary to be accompanied, it was better Wizarmon than either Takeru or Iori. She didn't particularly feel like listening to Takeru as he questioned her or Iori when he told her it wasn't wise to go after Ken.

Wizarmon, though, followed after her quietly, observing as she did the disintegration of the building. The iron gates were still securely fastened, but to magic they were of no consequence. Miyako shut her eyes, gathering the magic around her, but the digimon shook his head, indicating that she should not.

"Allow me," he said, and the gates swung open almost before he was finished speaking. They passed through the heavy gates and looked head on at the courtyard.

It had once been a foreboding sight indeed, for the walls on either side rose three stories high and were lined with cages – some tiny cells, some huge blocks into which dozens of prisoners must once have been housed. Miyako shivered, imagining hundreds of eyes peering out from behind the iron bars, watching her as she slowly entered the courtyard.

The entrance to the tower – the main structure of the prison at the center of the courtyard – was a single iron door, but blocked now by the pile of rubble that had crashed down to the ground.

"I hope there was nothing living within this courtyard," Hawkmon stated.

"So do I," Miyako answered, quietly.

With some difficulty, they made their way over and around the heavy piles of rocks. Occasionally, Wizarmon used magic to nudge aside some of the more disruptive or largest piles of debris, but they both knew it would be best to conserve their energy.

Hawkmon took to the air – being of little use on the ground – and perched upon an upper level of the courtyard, looking down at the proceedings.

"Hello," said a quiet voice, so completely sudden that it startled the bird. He turned to see a small and familiar green digimon sitting not too far away from him, his head poking out from between the bars of the nearest cell. The bars were of no consequence, for they were spaced wide enough so that he could easily slip between them.

If the voice had startled Hawkmon, the identity of the speaker startled him even more. He was silent for a moment, beak agape, before he was aware of it and shut his mouth. Still, he could think of nothing to say.

Wormmon didn't seem inclined to speak, either. He seemed aware of Hawkmon's astonishment, and so he was quiet, watching the progress made below, slow as it was.

"So Miyako was right," Hawkmon finally said, speaking as though he were musing to himself, coming to a conclusion. He nodded. "Where is he, then?"

"He's gone inside," Wormmon answered, gesturing toward the building. "He went to find the boy and the princess, but he'll be back."

"Is that so?" For a moment there was quiet. "What boy?" Hawkmon asked then.

The caterpillar only shrugged lightly.

Shijo had managed to get himself to his feet, though he felt weak and unsteady. As weak as he felt, though, he imagined the princess felt worse, for she seemed disinclined to walk or even to stand. She looked slightly pale – but she had seemed pale the last few days – and in her lap sat a small digimon that he slowly came to recognize as a Plotmon. For a while, he was confused, and then he realized that after the evolution the beautiful Angewomon must have de-evolved.

There was a rumbling that he thought might have been an earthquake, though a mild one. Koromon, still sleepy-eyed but slowly awakening, put that thought from his partner's mind.

"It's the building," Koromon said. "The roof's going to collapse."

He became aware, then, of the sad state of the room. The walls, made of heavy stone bricks, had been badly damaged from the fight. Three walls were barely standing, only the corner supports managing to hold the roof up for the moment. The fourth wall was undamaged, but it was hardly enough. Shijo shivered, the realization of the peril coming to his mind.

"We need to leave here," he said.

The princess nodded, but made no move to get up. For a moment all was quiet, and then the building shook again. Wood shavings floated down from the ceiling above like tiny snowflakes.

"I'll help you," he offered, holding out a hand. "Let me help you. We cannot stay here."

She looked at him for a moment and then nodded, slowly. "I know," she said. "I can make it."

She took his hand and he scarcely thought about the gesture or the way it felt or how fearful he was that somehow she might not be able to escape and what that might mean. How much trouble would he get in? Would he somehow be blamed? He pushed the thoughts from his mind. We need to leave this building, he told himself instead.

The door opened and the hall stretched before them, long and dark. In the distance, they could hear a creaking of wood and the sound of water dripping. Miyako conjured a ball of fire as she had done before – for light – and they slowly entered the hall.

Hawkmon flew from his perch, a strange expression on his face, and followed his partner into the hall. It was so dark, though, that neither Miyako nor Wizarmon noticed.

There was a great deal of stairs in front of them, and Shijo was not anxious to climb down all of them, but of course there was no other way down to the ground save jumping from the window. They walked slowly, the princess leaning upon his shoulder with one arm and the wobbly wooden railing with the other. Each step seemed to take an eternity to overcome.

"Are you hurt?" Shijo ventured to ask. She shook her head slowly.

"Just tired in a way I have never been before," she answered, stopping to rest for a moment. The staircase seemed to stretch for an eternity. "It must be the magic – if what he said was true."

"We mustn't trust the words of the enemy," Plotmon advised her partner.

"No, I agree," the princess responded. She took the next step, leaning heavily upon the railing, and sighed. "Ought I to trust the words of friends, then?" she asked.

"I don't know," the other answered, frowning.

There was a footstep on the stairs ahead of them, and around a curve appeared the stranger that had awoken Shijo earlier. He seemed to relax when he caught sight of them. The princess took a step forward on the staircase without the assistance of the railing or the boy's arm.

"He's all right," Shijo told her.

"I have not come to do you harm, your majesty," the stranger said, bowing low. "I give you my word."

"We have met before," she said, and took another step forward. He nodded.

"That was a different time and place," he replied. "I have come to help you."

She smiled at some shared memory the boy did not comprehend. "As I knew you would," she said.

The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, with heavy doors on either side that seemed to have no visible means of opening. Miyako shivered, imagining that once each door had concealed another prisoner from the light of day and wondering what sorts of crimes they had been imprisoned for.

At long last the hallway ended and a long staircase stretched before them. Here, a few flickering torches lit the way, and so Miyako closed her hand into a fist and extinguished the flame.

"Do you hear that?" Hawkmon questioned, his voice barely a whisper, yet echoing off the stone walls.

The others listened, and became aware of the sound of footsteps, slowly making their way down the staircase in front of them. Uncertain of whether they ought to feel fearful or hopeful, they waited until they were in the presence of the others.

A small, ragged looking boy who looked as though he had eaten little in several days walked first, carrying in his arms a small pink Koromon. Occasionally he glanced backward to see the others coming behind him safely, and he walked slowly so that he might not trip over the stairs.

Miyako sensed no dark magic on the boy, indeed no magic of any kind, and so she relaxed visibly, causing the others to let out a breath they had been holding. Behind the boy, however, was an indistinguishable figure clad from head to toe in a black cloak. She felt fear for the briefest of moments, and then she became aware of the strange sort of familiar magic around him and she knew who this stranger was immediately. Her heart leapt and a string of confusing emotions ran through her mind.

Before she could easily grasp hold of her feelings, however, she caught sight of who he carried in his arms. It was Hikari, looking paler and thinner and more haggard than she had ever been before, and yet also stronger, for Miyako could see and sense the magic around her as she had never been able to before.

The courtyard was as quiet and still as it had been before, and here the stranger set Hikari down on her feet and, though she wobbled for a bit, she seemed strong enough to stand. Miyako sympathized, remembering when she had first used magic and how tired it had left her. She had fallen to sleep and remained in bed for more than a day. It seemed Hikari felt similarly, but she was still awake.

"My brother –," Hikari said, her voice weak.

"He is across the river," Wizarmon reported. "At this moment, he is likely making his way toward us. Shall we go and meet him?" She nodded, and he slowly began to lead her away, through the courtyard and the heavy iron gates.

"Won't you come?" Miyako asked the others. The boy looked up at the other and she remembered then that she had felt the magic restore another life, and she knew the boy was the one that had been revived.

"Go with her," he said, and the boy nodded.

"Won't you come?" Miyako repeated.

He shook his head. "It's not time. I'd rather not."

"But - ," she began, and then hesitated.

"Should I go ahead?" Shijo asked, and they both nodded, almost in unison. He was gone a moment later.

"When will it be time, then?" Miyako asked.

"I don't know," he answered.

"Will you go home? To see your mother?"

"When this is over, perhaps. I don't know." There was no one else there now, and she could see his eyes from beyond the shadow. "My memories are still a jumble."

She nodded slowly, though she didn't understand, and tried to read something from his eyes. "Why did you come here? Why – why that boy?"

"I was searching for someone, and I thought I sensed him here. I chose the boy because I remember him." He turned away.

"Sensed someone - ," Miyako echoed. "With magic? Who? I don't… was it Daisuke? Was he here?"

"I don't know."

"Ken…."

"Are you hurt?" a thousand different voices questioned from every side of her, and Hikari felt weak.

"No," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just tired." And then she shut her eyes and was asleep.

Jyou pushed through the crowd. "She doesn't seem hurt," he confirmed. "Let's let her rest. Build a fire, keep us all warm."

Behind them, there was a deep rumbling sound, and the roof of the building crashed suddenly down upon the halfway destroyed topmost level with a horrific crashing noise. The shock of the explosion caused the level below that to collapse.

There was silence, and Takeru shuddered, the only sound in the aftermath, watching as a huge dust cloud rose from the wreckage. "Is Miyako - ?" he wondered.

"She's there," Patamon told him, pointing with one long ear toward where the young mage was standing, a few steps from the gate. She was coughing, the dust cloud being thick, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

The sun rose and then set again and there was little change in the light on the ground. A dim haze appeared in the daytime and a dark shadow enveloped the world at night. Hikari slept through the day, and it was only long after what should have been dusk that she awoke once more.

They had laid her on the ground, a blanket upon the cool grass, a warm cloak over her. She had slept deeply through the day and had been undisturbed by any noises.

The others waited through the day, unwilling to journey from the space they occupied until Hikari had awakened. There were a few fish in the river, and Shijo helped Iori to catch one or two. The rest of their food came from the supplies they had carried – which were low but still enough to last a day or so more.

Koushiro and Wizarmon studied the prophecy, a task the others tried their best to assist in. They knew there would be six days, and then the darkness would be reborn, and their time was limited, but the going was slow.

They had built a fire and gathered themselves around it for warmth and light. With magic and a steady supply of wood together it was kept going day and night. The woods were not far off, and so Yamato and Takeru together hauled in wood. Takeru remembered the time in the Eastern forests, chopping and hauling wood through the cold snow, and wondered where Daisuke was at that moment. It was at least a bit more bearable to be assigned to the task now that it was warmer.

Miyako had not spoken much to the others since the collapse of the tower. She stood near the river, watching the empty prison or watching the water flow beneath her. Sora, concerned for her friend, sat beside her in what would have been late afternoon had there been sun.

"Did you find him?" she questioned, arms wrapped around herself to ward against the cold.

"I'm not sure," Miyako answered.

Sorry again for the many delays. I'm almost finished with my last year of school, and this is making me very busy. Thanks for reading, reviewing. More to come.