PokeStones of the Dead - Chapter Twenty-Four

Utter silence.

The chaos of the battlefield had suddenly slowed to a crawl, with nothing registering in Temperance's ears – except the sound of his own agony. And the self-blame, for there was no avoiding it now – everything was his fault, his own bleeding goddamn stupidity and ignorance that had caused this. The rage that had entered him when Zapdos died was completely gone now, as the cold, stabbing knowledge that he had caused double the pain by killing Moltres and Articuno. And that didn't even take into account Lillette –

Oh my god, Lillette –

The deep slash wounds on Lillette's arms and chest were so red, so bright, jumping out at him, and he couldn't take his eyes off them, the horrible sight searing his eyeballs, imprinting itself into his mind forever. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and was grey and blurred – except those horrible wounds he had inflicted, clear and bright like a burning star, and that was all he could see. And he realised the horrible truth of his visions, how he had made them come true, with his own hand. How long would he have froze there in a semi-conscious state? He would have just stood there until Lance swung a blade into his back for his ultimate victory, perhaps. But then Lillette raised a hand, and Temperance noticed it instantly, and suddenly the grey, slow-motion picture of his despair went away, as he heard Lillette speak in a weak but clear voice, struggling to hold on to life.

"I forgive you, Temperance."

And there was something about those simple four words that broke the resistance of Temperance, as he just broke down, sobbing uncontrollably over Lillette, kneeling down over her body, letting her blood soak into his clothing, trying to feel her, to remember her, anything that would prolong the memory of her life. But he knew he could not make her live, it was far too late for that. Lillette spoke her last words, managing a smile at Temperance's anger going away.

"Beat Lance, won't you? Not with the power of anger, but the power of your true, undying love. Not love for me – although I wouldn't mind – but love for Kanto. And everyone that Lance has managed to devastate. You can do it. Remember, there is always my love. And I love you, Temperance – I really do."

The hand that Temperance was unconsciously grasping fell, and Lillette's eyes closed. No! This can't be…

But it was. Lillette didn't move again, and Temperance had no idea whether she was still alive. If she was, that would change very soon. Temperance controlled his emotions. Lance was no doubt still lurking around, and Temperance knew that he had the responsibility to carry out Lillette's last wishes. Temperance felt the determination come back, but it was strangely… different this time. The determination was not fuelled by anger or a desire for revenge; it was caused by a need to redeem himself in his own eyes, as well as to give Lillette, looking from up there somewhere, cause to cheer about. Never had Temperance felt so clear-minded on what he needed to do, and what he was going to do. The battle had drawn on for long enough.

It was going to end in a single clash. For Temperance, back to his logical analytic self again – at least for the time being – had noticed that Lance had not cast a single spell when his dragons were out. This meant that he had put all his power into them. It was time for the battle to end. With confidence flooding through his body, Temperance made his move.

Temperance unleashed all his power, summoning three huge arrows. Naturally, they were made out of fire, lightning, and ice. He felt totally spent, and he knew that he would be unable to cast any other spells while the arrows were out – the arrows were manifestations of all his power, much like how the dragons were manifestations of Lance's various elements. However, Temperance still had his sword with him. Counting Lance's dragons, Temperance felt that something was wrong – there was one dragon missing. However, he had no time to strike off the dragons, concluding which one was gone via the process of elimination, as Lance recovered from Temperance's prior assault, and gathered his dragons. Knowing that this was the crisis, the climax of the battle, Lance charged at Temperance, his dragons snarling, circling around him, as Lance took a sword from his steel dragon. The speed of the charge was blinding, as Temperance prepared himself for the final clash.

The divine arrows pointed themselves at Lance, as Temperance, sword in hand, stayed marginally behind. As Temperance charged himself, he suddenly realised which dragon was missing, and realised Lance's plan, but he for some reason didn't feel worried at all, even though it was clearly irrational – Lance was now closer, barely 100 metres away, and then Temperance knew why Lance's plan would fail miserably – 50 metres – and Temperance would win, he knew he would win – 30 metres – For Kanto – 10 metres – And for Lillette–!

The clash of steel, and the pain of a bite, then everything went white for an instant –

And when vision returned to normal, Temperance found himself grounded, his leg crumpled and useless. Temperance tried to stand on his one good leg, but the pain was too much, and he soon gave it up for the time being. If Lance wasn't down as well, he was free to kill Temperance in whatever way he chose. But no sword slashed Temperance's throat, no blast of energy hit him in the chest to stop his heart. Eventually, the pain in his leg subsided somewhat, and Temperance stood. A cursory survey of his surroundings revealed that he was still at the top of Death Peak, and Lance lay a few metres to the side. Whatever the extent of the injury Temperance had taken, it was clear that Lance had come off worse in the clash. While Temperance had only sustained injury to the leg, Lance had a slash wound to the stomach, as well as stab wounds to his arms. However, as Temperance approached, Lance was actually smiling, as psychic energy emanated from his fingers. Lance had avoided sending out the psychic dragon so that he could heal himself after the clash. Even though Lance would most certainly come off worse due to having less power than Temperance, he would have the power to heal his injuries while Temperance remained injured, leading to an easy win.

Or so he thought.

As the psychic energy targeted Lance's wounds, they only fizzled and died. The confidence in Lance's eyes turned to shock, as more and more of the pink energy tried to heal his wounds, but kept failing. Shock and blood loss was sending him towards death, and the energy was still floating around, unable to do its job. Temperance finally knew he had won, the sight before him confirming his hypothesis earlier on. Lance could not be healed. And it was time to end this. With all the contempt he could muster, Temperance spoke, allowing Lance to hear the voice of a human for the last time before he paid for his sins.

"Page 10 in the beginners' rulebook, Lance. Psychic attacks and moves don't affect Dark creatures. And I think – considering what you've done – you most certainly are a Dark-typed creature. Now… you are dead. Have fun."

Picking up a sword fragment on the ground, Temperance cut Lance's throat. The Psychic energy, now without a master to control its movement, just moved on autopilot, targeting any wounded people it saw. Temperance, the closest, was the first to benefit, his leg healed in an instant. The energy was wild and abundant, and spread to the battlefield. All those nearing death were healed, and Temperance looked down on the healed soldiers, almost managing a smile despite the death of Lillette – wait. Lillette. Could she be healed from the psychic energy?

Temperance ran. Running down the mountain top to Lillette's body, he carried it and ran back to the top. His flying powers – along with everything else – had dissipated, lost in the final clash with Lance. But he still had his legs. He ran faster than he had ever run before. Reaching the top, he laid Lillette's body on the peak, where Lance's body – and the psychic energy – were. As the energy crept towards Lillette's chest, and forced itself into the slash wounds, Temperance felt a sense of hope that he was unused to. Could it possibly work? Could he somehow atone for his idiotic error? More and more of the pink energy crept inside, and soon Temperance could see the wound closing up, the flesh knitting together with the force of a million normal Recover attacks.

Sheer joy and expectation was on his face now, as the slash-shaped marks on Lillette's skin slowly went away, and as Temperance bent over her, not caring about anything else but the pink energy, the dark spirit left Lance and looked for a new host. Who would be the next one filled with wrath? Pride? Envy? The list went on. It had survived all those years ago, and it would survive now. A new host… yes… that was all that was required. It had time. Maybe not now, when the vanquisher had recovered from his fit of anger, but it, after all, did have several thousand years to make its move. Not that the spirit was planning to wait for that long. Soon, soon – as long as someone let his dark emotions grow to huge proportions, the spirit would be back. It was indestructible, there was no reason to fear… as long as sin remained in the world, it would exist.

And as the spirit left Lance's body, it collapsed into dust, the soul that was holding the flesh and bone together suddenly gone. The battle was won – the Dead had disappeared after the spirit controlling them took refuge – once again underground – and the healing psychic energy had saved all those it could save, those whose bodies were not battered beyond recognition. The Gym Leaders rejoiced for that moment, knowing the entire operation was a success. There would be momentary peace, and things would be sorted out in time. In due time.

Lillette opened her eyes.