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The Gift of Men and Pokemon is Death: to not be bound to the circles of the world, and have their final fate be beyond the ends of the Earth.

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Kirobara Outpost was the last settlement of the Hisuian people before the great northern expanse. Of old, the land of Hisui had reached from the foothills of the Ered Engrin to the Great Sea, and thus Kirobara was built during that time of great peace and wisdom. Now it lay a silent guardian, the veteran of many terrible battles against foe-men from the Crimson Mirelans, the Dor-nu-Fauglith.

It served as a dropping-off point to any traveler who was either too brave for their own sake or had little knowledge of the dangers further north, and sometimes received the elusive folk of Johto, speaking strange and harsh tongues. In recent days, attacks out of the Crimson Mirelands had been growing in might and terror, and the wardens of Hisui were hard-pressed to hold it.

The company approached the vast fort, completely encircled by wood-bound stone walls. Within the hold collections of buildings of the craft of Old Hisui stood, remnants of a more blissful era. Entering from the southern gate, the mighty Avaluggs and the chosen travelers Golden Company entered the shadowy and secretive fortress. A new sun rose, light against dark barriers, and the topmost wall shone fair and shapely in the morning breeze.

The three wild-woman were put into the Men in command of the city, and were ushered away to whatever fate they were allotted to. Akari and Cyllene had gone out to purchase and barter for as many goods as possible from the vast pier of a marketplace, while Laventon was attempting to learn more about the lands beyond from any form of written record that he had not yet learned of from the scrolls of lore in Jubilife.

Adaman and Iscan spoke with Tarcil, the Elder of the outpost, for they wished to learn more of the dire peril of the Enamorus Cult in the northern lands. Lian was training his Pokémon with Rei by the walls of the strong fortress, although within a distance of the gate short enough to fly on foot, for a foe could come from the wide north with terrible swiftness.

Indeed, the settlement bore many grim signs of battle and the scars of war. If one were to go to the northern walls and look into the lands facing them, they would see a great, cool plain dotted with short spires of dark obsidian, and beyond that, a dun red, festering marshland, as far as on could see going north, and further, the Ered Engrin, towers of icy teeth. Mount Coronet reared in wonder and glory, and a red light shone from its sleet-covered slopes in the brilliance of the Star of Solgaleo Lightbringer.

"It would be a most dangerous endeavor to venture north at this time," Tarcil said to Iscan and Adaman. "The mirelands are a fell adversary. They are nearly two hundred leagues across, and fifty leagues wide, and that is only from the central bog eastwards or westwards. Evil men prowl it, and you will not be able to either travel around its borders, or cross through it without being ambushed by the madmen as the peril currently stands. Furthermore, a dark power has authority over that land, a demon by the name of Enamorus. Some would say that it is merely a Pokémon of a kind yet unknown to the Men of Hisui in these dark days, but experience dictates otherwise."

"Experience?" Iscan asked. "Have you contended with this elohim in the past?

"Nearly two months and seven days ago," The Elder said. "I will now tell you a tale of woe..."

"We had sent twelve hardy men and Pokémon into the marshes, as to spy upon the enemy, and see their numbers. This was done by the youngest among us, for in that time you, Lord Adaman, had taken our oldest and most cunning into battle against the Calathrim, and many wished to embark on a manly test worthy of the High Men of Hisui. After going nearly fifty leagues into the marsh, with great difficulty, even with the aid of Pokémon, we came upon but one village of madmen. They were hardy and gave no quarter, but we took the hamlet with little loss by the skill of our Pokemon.

"The details of what we found in that unholy abode I shall not tell to trouble the unhappy world further. What we did to whatever foul beasts that we found has not yet been told, for although some things are done in the greatest interest of mercy and sanity, they mighty are judged cruelly by others. It suffices to say that nothing was left in that village that could move, and the idols were broken down, and the stout-hearted among us flew north in terrible wrath, and they were not seen ever after. I left then, and alone was spared along with my escort from any further horrors.

"Screaming of the worst sort was heard from further depths of the mire, and those who had the strength of heart to continue did. They too vanished into the crimson waters. Another went mad from terrible visions and drowned in his frenzy. The others made haste out of the swamp, but were waylaid by creatures that were described as servants of the Enemy, vast and amorphous, surrounded by throngs of masked worshippers in an ecclidisical frenzy of dark devotion.

"The remnant were chained, and brought far into the mire with little abuse from the madmen. After the march was over at long last, they were bound at a village in the Scarlet Bog, the seat of power of the demon lord Enamorus..."

Tarcil shuddered with dread. "Rest assured, terrible works had been done to give service to the foul creature. Only one of our men was brought to deliverance from the half-human beasts, and only by sheer fortune, or perhaps the Will of Arceus. A Fearow passed above as he was about to be cruelly hewn upon an altar, and the brave warrior flew southwards upon the talons of the blessed avian. We have set our guard against the cult ever greater since that terrible day."

Within the tall outpost hall of polished wood, Laventon had uncovered some archaic maps from the head librarian concerning the northern regions.

As he poured over the old parchment, Laventon noticed one area, in particular, that was not yet mapped, although the surrounding area had been explored, the mountains named and the ruins discovered. Upon asking the head librarian in a courteous manner, he received an ambiguous response.

"Oh, none have ventured there with the intention of drawing its boundaries, Guildmaster Laventon! It is a place of comfort and rest in the Ered Engrin, if the accounts bid well. I, however, believe that it is not a wholly good place. Since the nature of this comfort is elusive, and those who return seldom speak of their experience, I cannot make a final judgment on whether it is fair or foul. But some who go there do not return, and those who do are never unchanged. Better to avoid it, and go south, where the grass is green and the people are strong. We live in fear here, Laventon."

"If one were to go through the Iron Mountains, would that be a place that one would take refuge in?" Laventon asked.

"Perhaps," the librarian answered. "But it would best be to avoid the mountains. Winter is coming, and the frost will bite ever harder in the heights of the clouds. If you are truly deigning to go there, then I have little words of hope or comfort for you and whoever you are traveling with..."

Rei and Lian were taking a brief pause in their training, and eating a small meal of unleavened bread and old pears. Looking upon the fortress, Rei felt a sinking in his heart. No hangings or webs of jewels inset the walls, nor any things of gold or gems were to be seen. Hisui was declining by the year, and although Jubilfe seemed lively and prosperous, only half the Men and Pokemon that could have dwelt there in ease were to be found. Ever southwards the land fell back, and dangers grew in the north.

"We are nearly halfway to the Ered Engrin, the Iron Mountains," Lian said. "And it has only been a month! And no great upheaval of the world has occurred yet...I believe that the time of reckoning has not yet passed."

"Perhaps it will, if we are slow in crossing the mire, and are waylaid in the mountains," Rei said. "Winter is coming, and the trees are nearly bare. No leaves of bright green or gold lace the boughs. Further north, the first snows can be seen, and our pace will slow greatly."

Unattentive, Lian was looking into the north at a pillar of black dust that had come out of the Crimson Mirelands. It was nearing the outpost, and both of the boys stood up in alarm. Taking out his personal distance magnifier that he had received from Laventon, Lian beheld the distant company, and yelled in dire horror.

"The forces of the mire! They are riding here, with companion and sword! By Arceus, assault, assault! Fear, fire, foes! Make for the city!"

Even inside the stronghold, the bells of warning began to ring. All who were outside immediately ran inside the gate before it closed and was barred with study wooden girders. A few messengers and Rangers, hurtled wildly through the gates, bringing more dreadful news. The Cultists had rallied about a new war-chief, and were riding across the Obsidian Fieldlands with bow and sword.

"To arms! To arms!" the heralds cried. "The forces of the mire are riding forth! To arms! To arms! Stand stalwart, Men of Hisui, for the hour of doom is at hand!"

Wardens flew to the walls and manned them with their Pokémon, and they started to bar the outpost. Lian and Rei lifted hewn wooden planks and brought them over to the rallying Men of Hisui and many weapons were being passed out. The women were fortifying the houses and shops, and the old men grabbed bows and feathered darts, and readied them out the lifted window-holes of the many houses of Kirobara Outpost.

Iscan and Adaman took command of the defense of the city along with Lord Tarcil, for they were heroes of great might and renown. Joining the main garrison to face the enemy, Laventon strengthened the walls with the aid of his Gurdurr. Cyllene and Akari stood at guard with their Pokémon for the battle, Akari wishing to best a few madmen with her Parasect's deadly spores.

The enemy's appearance was quite clear now within sight of the wall. About three hundred and two cultists rode on mundane horses, with few Pokémon scattered about their ranks, few and of lesser blood. All were dressed in black rags, bearing weapons of war and wicker shields of feeble strength. Upon the face of every warrior was a hideous mask, bearing the likeness of some foul demon of the Mbelekoro.

The war-chief bore armor of burnt leather, and wielded a curved sword, wearing a mask that resembled the demon Enamorus. The appearance of the visor was like a pink faerie, with snow-white hair with two curved appendages growing out of it, and four rose horns upon its brow above slanted amber eyes, with great pointed ears and a mouth with chalk-white lips surrounding a mouth like a sewn slit.

The war-chief rode to the walls upon a Rapidash, and the grass beneath its hooves withered in the heat of its footfalls. The general of the garrison looked down at the madman and asked him to state his business, for the war-chief was not within bowshot.

"We have come to seize this barrack in the name of the Great Magna Mater Enamorus. If you say the words, "Enamorus is Lord and Lady,' then we shall spare you. If otherwise, we will breach your walls, slay your men and children, violate your woman, and capture your Pokémon to sacrifice as a burnt offering to the God of the Mirelands. Do as you will to defend your lands."

Tarcil was not deterred. "Who are the dwellers of the mirelands to give us orders, we, the High Men of Hisui? We have repelled attacks such as this in the past, and not one of your folk escaped. Why, any brigand of the hills could bring up such a following as this! We are fast and secure. Even if we were deaf and blind, you could not take this stronghold. Furthermore, we will not worship nor give homage to the wicked Elohim of the Crimson Mirelands. As such, we say that Arceus is Lord! Begone, or we will give no quarter in combat, as the Original One, He who has declared himself the God of Battle, will ride before us and give us strength!"

Instead of continuing to negotiate or attempting to concede, the war-chief started a chant among his warriors, in a harsh and wild language. Tarcil turned to his own warriors, and addressed the army.

"Remember, today we are going into battle against our enemies for the sake of the chosen people of the Original One. Do not be fainthearted or afraid, or give way to terror and panic before them! For Arceus the Original One is the one who goes before us to fight with you in spirit and will give us victory. For you are the Men of Hisui, the long-lived, the Folk of Easternesse that do now falter in battle or against many wicked foe-men."

The war-chief rode to his warriors, and stood in front of them like a bruise on the frosty meades of the Obsidian Fieldlands. "The time had come to topple the wicked overlords of the south! In the name of the Great Evening Star, and the Eternal Mother Ba-al Enamorus, we ride to blood and glory! Let the sword and spear and the holy war chant make our adversaries cower at the sound of our fell voices. Ride now, ride to Hisui!"

The mustered troops yelled, and charged.

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One who cannot cast a treasure away at need is in fetters.

It was the first battle of Men against Men that Rei had seen, and he did not like it very much.

Tarcil gave the order for the troops to fire, and the maelstrom of darts felled many of the horseman and their steeds, for the dark tunics gave many a target for the great archers of Hisui to strike down. However, the madmen were pushed forward as if the whips of their masters were behind them, and upon reaching the walls, they began to strike knobbled footholds into them with incredible fervor, and began to climb.

The Pokémon of the fortress did battle with the few Pokémon of the cultists below the walls, while the soldiers poured arrow after arrow into the ranks of the madmen as they climbed, piling them as masses of ants below. But the others stepped over the piles of bodies to climb again, while a group of crude archers shot arrows up at the defenders, wounding a few.

After a great struggle, a few madmen had boarded the wall-tops, and engaged in direct combat with the wardens of Hisui. While the soldiers fought with all their might, the cultists seemed to not tire nor feel torment, and they sung and shouted as they slew, and when the banners of the folk of the Mirelands were seen over the stone walls, the folk of Hisui fell back in terror and black dread.

If any brute would break the wall of guards and charge into the town, a hail of darts from the windows of the buildings would topple them as swiftly as a arrow pierces flesh. Even Akari slew her own foe-man, with a fire in her eyes that would have made her older sisters step back in alarm. The general was now duling with the war-chief, two master swordsmen fighting to the death.

Tarcil was skilled and filled with the rigteous spirit of Arceus, but the war-chief was far more bloodthirsty and cunning, for his mind and heart was full of guile. The general was gradually overborne, and soon his sword was flung from his hand, spiraling over the battlements.

Positioning his curved blade for a final blow, the war-chief yelled a cry of victory to Enamorus. "Mbelekoro, guide my strike!"

"Baruk Hisui! Hisui-ai-menu!" The axes of Hisui! The axes of Hisui are upon you!

Iscan had come up from the rear and hewed off the head of the war-chief with a great swing of his battle-axe. Before blood could even spurt from the stump, Adaman impaled one of the bodyguards of the war-chief, and Iscan's Kleavor slew two more. Soon twelve lay dead by the surpassing skill of Adaman and Iscan, and many others would fall.

The madmen went into full rout as they saw their fallen leader lie slain, yelling in panic and springing down the low walls. Adaman lifted his sword along with Iscan's axe, and jumped below to pursue the fleeing cultists. "For the Original One!" they cried, as the soldiers of the garrison charged after them, filled with new vigor and the fell love of battle.

The Pokémon of the fortress had overwhelmed those of the madmen, and were now joining the fight against the remaining mire-dwellers. The rear guard of the cultist broke, and the slaughter was quick. When the dust had settled, only one of the madmen was still alive, and with a severe wound from a Gallade.

He was seized amid great mockery, and the wardens dragged the man through the gates, and put him in the public square. Tarcil said that since his force had announced their intentions, and offered a measure of peace, he would not be subjected to a dishonorable death such as hanging, but would be beheaded by the same Gallade that had wounded him.

Once this was done, the soldiers set to the labor of gathering their darts and weapons, the cultist's bodies to be burned, and the fallen bodies of the great wardens of Hisui to be mourned.

At high noon of the next day, the company readied to set out again, with the blessing of the general.

"The numbers of the mire-dwellers have been halved, or diminished by two-thirds," Tarcil has said. "Perhaps you will be able to ride out without fear of attack and reach the Ered Engrin within a month. May the Original One be with you as you wander through the westward route, to the Iron Mountains, where the shadows lie."

With the route now made safe through the spilling of blood, the Golden Company set out once more, into the uttermost wild. From the foreboding mountains, a cold wind swept across the great plain, and the first flakes of snow began to fall.

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But in the land of Hisui songs like trees bear fruits only in their own time and in their own way, and sometimes they are withered untimely, as in all lands. But the music there is more fair and beautiful, and wisdom and sorrow have enriched it.

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Volo was thrown on his face before Marcus, and quickly hurried up, his pride bruised. His Togepi had been taken as a precaution, and now he was defenseless before the Mountain King. Marcus beheld him, and then Volo was ensnared in the horror and malice of his spells, yet did not know it.

"Well, who are you, jailor-lord?" Volo mocked. "Is it the policy of your land to take those who have been wronged by others, and bid them to thy dungeons? If so, may I rebuke you!"

"I?" Marcus said. "I rebuke you? What not of the Original One? Is it not custom in Hisui to only give rancor by the name of Arceus, and not oneself? I bid thou to tell me of why you hath such a manner of speech."

Volo then started a grand tale, saying how he had once believed in the true authority of Arceus, but discovered a being far more worshipful, and more deserving of his devotion. Long had Volo carried out the devices of the Enemy in Hisui, sowing doubt and evil, turning brother against brother, all from the shadows, far from the eyes of suspicion.

But he had tired of his fair guise and sundered himself from Hisui, and after an unsuccessful attempt to prevent the Golden Company from setting out, he had dwelt with the Enamorus Cultists for a time, until he was rather rudely taken from the Crimson Mirelands and brought to the Halls of Marcus.

After this, Volo swore a terrible oath, to persecute all the followers of Arceus, whether they be Pokémon, Man, or Elohim. He swore by the Enemy and the dreadful Abyss. He cast the Everlasting Darkness upon himself if he should break his oath, and set himself at the mercy of the Authorities and Powers of Imbar, that is, the world.

At this, the ears of Marcus were gladdened. He is indeed who I seek, thought the Enemy. A useful fool. With time, I can make him as unthinking and unbending as a half-man that dwells in the Southern Darkness.

Marcus bade him away to a secret northern outlook, the frosty winds writhing about the night, although the moon was clear, set above mighty Mount Coronet.

"What do you see?" Marcus asked.

"I see frost and the northern colds," Volo said. "The darkness of the north is made clear to me, and the beauty of it makes my heart rejoice. The Dor-na-Daecheras, the Realm of Everlasting Cold, is what my thoughts truly wish for, and I would give everything, even my own life, to spread it, and have it slay my foes."

"What if I told you," Marcus whispered, his words drops of honey to the ears of Volo. "That such a thing can be done? That I, as unseemly as I may seem, can make such a land, and more than you wished for?"

Volo was bidden to curiosity. "What power do you have that could do such a thing? Who are you, truly? Tell me!"

Then Marcus showed Volo his true form, a dark lord, tall and terrible. Volo qualied, and fell on his face, weeping and pleading for mercy and pardon.

The Enemy changed to his earthly disguise once more. "I am the Lord your God. Do you swear everlasting allegiance to me, and my kingdom upon Earth and all Earths, and that your life would be forever tied to its endurance?"

Volo, bidden by his own will, agreed to the oath, binding his troth to the Enemy. And thus, the great deceiver set his trap for the lesser.

Marcus then pointed at the Moon, clean and white it was, a lifeless globe in the heavenly airs.

"Do you see it? Beautiful. A sea of leached rocks, without mar or life. Sanitary. Desirable. And oh so unpredictable, as well. You have not walked there, but I have. Oh, I have...

"The sun is hundreds of degrees, and heat so great that it would pierce your eyes like steel and turn your blood to fire and your bones to ash. And in the shade of the jagged rocks, so sharp that if you touched them you would slay yourself, there is nothing but deadly frost, black as ebony, still and without any movement. You would die, no? But even then, you would not become filth. Your body would change into marvelous ash, perfect white powder. No wind to blow your remains about, not even till the end of the world...but that is folly. The world will never end.

"Cliffs as high as Coronet, thousands upon thousands of leagues without even one blade of grass, not one fiber of lichen, not a grain of dust. Not even air, except for the scant gases about the lowest gorges. No crumbling, no erosion, no impermanence. I see that you desire this cleanliness, however strange that it would seem to those who love the green earth. Now, how would you feel if you knew that the Moon was once a place of life?

"In the deeps of time, I contested with Lunala while she placed the Lamp of the Moon in the sky, and Solgaleo as he placed the Lamp of the Sun, and the Blinding One who gave them light. I failed for the lack of my own strength, but it was not wholly fruitless. The Moon was made clean. Perfect and delectable, without any vile organic things, with all their dirt and sweat and excrements. If I hath the power to do such a thing in my present state, what do you think could be accomplished in a mightier one?"

Volo was falling into a wicked passion, schemes and black hopes running through his mind. "What, my lord?"

"Endless lands. From Nothing I could make them. Although...I would require your death, to seize this power from the Original One. But do not fear, for it would not be the end. I could bring you back from Nothing, which is where all Men go after death."

"Truly?" Volo said. "Than I will do thee bidding, blackheart. But what form would I take, coming back from Nothing?"

"You would not need to breed or die, but you would live on, and the spreading of your power in the lands that I would create, free of the False One, would hath no end, but endure for ever. Your organic, frail, fallible body would be disposed of. Indeed, I could keep you alive with artificiality, a miracle of applied biochemistry. You would need no food or water. I could free you from Nature, an abomination of the False One, and cut the last, finest cord that keeps you tied to her. Oh, it will be wondrous, and you shall also be freed of reproduction. There can never be true freedom while Sex exists. Nature, in her own hatred of us, hath already thrown away the pleasure of it. There may never be peace or lasting order as long as it endures, and when Man has shunned it, then he will finally be reasonable."

And over the days, Marcus told Volo all of what could be done by his power if Volo aided him, and the mind of Volo went far into dark pathways, and lightless labyrinths, and he began to forsake Life, and only wish for Death.