Chapter 13:
The Speaker of Truth
"I tell you, milord, she's being absolutely impossible!" the purugly whined. Sable let out a slightly discomfited sigh. Third time. This was the third time he'd been called down personally to deal with some issue between Mist and the modelling department. When he took over management of the world, he'd make sure to ban any remaining Legendaries from procreating. Their children were just too much trouble.
"What is it this time?" he asked.
"Well, the first look we tried didn't quite work out. She just couldn't pull off 'high fashion'. Her posture was entirely wrong. So we, that is, Mikael and I, decided to go for a more 'exotic' look."
"Remind me who Mikael is?" Sable had to admit that, though he kept careful track of each of his employee's salaries, he had a much harder time remembering all their names.
"The chief artist, milord," the purugly replied, "He's the smeargel you hired a year ago. He's been making the print plates for the covers of all our publications. Ms. Mist was supposed to go on the cover of The Wailord and Quagsire, a very respectable weekly publication, but she flat out refuses to let our beauty experts handle her!"
Curse Raikou and his blasted children! "Right, let me talk to her," Sable said. Immediately, the cat perked up and offered to show the way. As they walked, she babbled on about whatever silly little things filled her head. Fashion, arts, etc. Sable paid only enough attention to occasionally respond with an 'indeed' or a 'oh please, go on'. Inwardly, he fumed. It might just be easier to lock Mist up in the dungeons, but if he did that he could almost count on some soft-hearted guard taking pity on the poor (and not half-bad looking) islander imprisoned for something she didn't understand. Word would get out and, with the lower classes as they were, there might be an incident. As it was, he could barely keep them diverted with a constant stream of religious publications calling for submission to the government as a sign of piety.
As his guide led him down the hallways, he dropped all pretense of listening and became wrapped up in his own thoughts. Yes, religion truly was the opiate of the masses. Ironic, since it was designed to lead them to the thrice-cursed throne of Arceus himself! But as long as it remained merely 'religion', a strict set of moral laws that no one without a lifetime's worth of study could even hope to comprehend fully, and none of those fools realized that there might actually be more to it than that, it posed no danger. In fact, it was one of his best tools for expanding his control over the population. Now, if only he could find some way to expand it over Mist and get her to comply, his day would be made.
The female jolteon was waiting patiently in her room. Well, the room that Sable had given her, that is. She smiled as the sableye entered. "Hello again! What's up?"
Sable pasted a smile on his face. "I heard you were being…difficult. Again."
Mist blinked in surprise. "Oh…" Her face fell.
"Care to tell me what the problem is this time?" Sable asked, slightly irritable.
"Um…" Mist hesitated and looked at the purugly.
Sable sighed. "Leave us, please."
"Ah…yes. My apologies, milord," she said and promptly stepped out.
Sable pulled a chair out from the room's only table and sat in it. "Now," he said in a businesslike tone, "What seems to be the trouble?"
Mist huffed. "They keep asking me to do stupid things. And the stuff they put in my fur stinks. Plus, they keep trying to trim around my rear. Do you realize how weird that feels?!"
Sable sat unimpressed. "Mist, doll, I thought you wanted this job."
"Not really," she said, "I wanted a job because I need money to continue exploring! I want adventure."
"Ah. My mistake," Sable said. He leaned back and clicked his claws together thoughtfully. "So tell me, Mist, what exactly can you do? What skills do you have?"
She thought for a moment. "Um…I can make sandcastles. I helped with the cooking at the last festival. I…can fight. Somewhat. My brother is better at that." She brightened. "Art! I can do paw paintings!"
"As can hundreds of others, and that's just here in the city. And they barely make enough to buy food to keep the pelts on their bodies," Sable said, "So, what you've just told me is that you have nothing really marketable to offer, do you? The salary you would earn as a cook's assistant is a fraction of what I'm offering."
Mist frowned. "Wow. I had no idea things were that bad."
"Yes. I'm afraid so." Sable smiled. "So you see, your best option is to…"
"Why don't you do something about it then?" Mist suggested.
Lord Sable's diamond eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Weeeell, if things are really that bad and there are Pokémon starving out there, why don't you help them?" Mist asked.
Sable chuckled. "A naïve view. Being poor is an…incentive. Makes them work harder and more efficiently. Without the hardship of poverty, they'd never feel the need to climb out of it, would they? Then, we'd just be paying them to do nothing."
"I wasn't asking about 'we' though," Mist said, "I was asking about you. You have a lot of money, don't you? Buy the paintings they make! Help them yourself."
Sable ground his teeth, but managed to maintain a semblance of a smile. "Maybe there is something to what you say," he lied, "but the question before you now is whether or not you will continue in my employ or throw yourself on the, ah, good graces of the public. And I assure you, that would be foolish."
"Well…" Mist mused, "It's probably best if I do…"
Sable nodded and allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation. Rule one of controlling people: whenever they bring up a topic you don't like, shift topics to one you are better prepared to answer. "A wise choice. I…" He faltered and a flicker of fear passed over his face. "I had better go now."
"Really? But I had some questions I…"
"Maybe later. I'm late for a meeting." Sable hopped off the chair and made for the door. "Make sure you follow these good people's directions this time! Otherwise I might reconsider your employment!"
"I will!" Mist promised as the door slammed behind him. She sighed. "I really hate the stuff they put in my fur though…"
In the hall, Sable let out a small sigh of relief. "A ghost haunting a ghost-type? Ha! That's rich. Not like he can do anything to me now. He's dead and buried." Still, despite this self-assurance, he moved at a brisk pace and left the building as quickly as he could.
Roa unbolted the steel door and heaved it open. "There you are!" she said brightly, "Home sweet home. And a nice, heavy door to…well, is it to keep you in or to keep others out?" She chuckled and stood aside. "After you, Golden Demon."
"Keski. It's Keski."
"Oh? Are we on first-name basis again?"
Keski huffed. "Roa, please…"
The zoroark shrugged and gestured again toward the door. "Fine, Keski. Now, if you would please go inside, your little friend Ryke is waiting to see you."
"Wha…? Ryke?" Keski clenched his paws into fists. "What did you do to him?"
"Me? Nothing." Roa grinned. "But the guards may or may not have scared him with all the things they'd like to do to him. And try as I might, I just am not the comforting type, you know? I think you'd be much better at that." She jabbed her paw toward the door. "Inside. Now."
Keski glared at her and stepped through the doorway. The inside was not exactly what he expected. Bare stone walls with bands of steel running across them like a cage did not exactly create a homely feel to the place, but it was well lit and there were cushions on the floor around a low table. It had everything a person could need to live in relative comfort. There was even a shelf crammed full of scrolls, papers, and books in the corner. A few more rooms branched off from the main one: pantry on the right, two closed doors beside it, and five small cells beside them. They were tiny rooms with a bed and not much else, though they were also well-lit.
"This is…nicer than I expected…" Keski mumbled.
"Like it?" Roa said with a chuckle, "I live here too, you know, being the Keeper and all that. Couldn't live in a dump, could I?" She pointed to the first closed door. "That's my room. No entering, understand? Girl-stuff. And that other closed door is the bath. Warm water flows in from an underground spring." She pointed to the middle cell. "That's where Ryke is. He won't get near me. Guards told him I'd eat him or something. He's so adorable when he's scared."
"Out of curiosity, you wouldn't actually…"
"No, I wouldn't. Blood and my stomach don't agree to well." She grimaced. "You're in the room closest to me. So I can keep an eye on you…"
"Great…" Keski drawled. He stepped away from her and made for Ryke's cell.
"When you're done, come out here and I'll see what I can do for your back!" Roa called, "Have fun!"
Keski found Ryke curled up in the corner, back turned to the door. "Go away!" the riolu shouted, "Just…just leave me alone!"
"Ryke…" Keski said softly, "Hey, it's me. Kesk-" The breath was forcibly driven from his lungs when Ryke slammed into his stomach and hugged him. Keski hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arms around him and lifted him up. "You okay?"
"They…they said they were going to kill you…" Ryke sniffed. "And then me…and they were very specific…" He shuddered. "Keski? What's a rack?"
"It's a torture device," Keski answered grimly, "They tie you down and slowly pull you apart with ropes. Eventually, your bones snap and…" Ryke stared at him in horror and terror. He clung to Keski tightly and began shivering. "Um…sorry. Probably didn't help."
"No…" The riolu swallowed. "We're…we're getting out of here, right?"
Keski sighed. "Course you are," he said, "Don't worry. I'm sure everything will be just fine."
"Well!" Roa said brightly. She leaned against the doorway and grinned. "Isn't this a cute little scene!" Keski glared at her. "Oh don't give me that! He could almost be your son."
"Why are you doing this, Roa?" Keski asked.
She smirked. "Doing what?"
"You were always aggravating, but this…I don't even know what to make of you right now…" Keski said, "Are you an enemy? A friend? If you are, I don't deserve your friendship anymore, but I'd be very grateful for it."
"No," she said in a cool, distant tone, "You don't deserve it. But…" She shrugged. "I'm not your enemy here either. I'm the one member of the court you can trust when I say that I don't mean you any harm. Anyone else tells you that, they're lying. Little tip there, free of charge! But…" Her nose wrinkled. "Right now…I'd appreciate it if you both took baths. You stink."
Ryke glanced between them. "Do you…know each other?"
Keski let out a sad sigh. "Once, she was a friend."
"Is that all you're going to tell him? Well then, I suppose I won't be the one to disillusion the cute little guy about his great hero," the female zoroark said, "Now! Baths."
"…Roa…" Keski said, "Do you hate me?"
She cocked her head to the side. "No. Not anymore." She smirked. "There are too many around here who do. I always did like standing out. Going against the crowd. So!" She clapped her paws together. "Consider this your haven. Here, no one will harm you. I will make food for us and I will tend to whatever wounds they inflict upon you. Just don't think that this is supposed to be kindness. Well, on my part it is, but from Tyrone I can't think of anything crueler. All I can do is prolong your torture, I cannot get you out of it. The things I do, the hearty, tasty meals, the medical treatment, the nice beds and good rest, ha! It's all pointless in the end!"
For a moment something changed in her eyes, but it was only there for a moment. "Anyway, baths! Now. I'll make dinner, yeah? We'll eat it together when you're done. Remember! The army marches in ten days! Survive that long and you'll find your life-expectancy greatly increased."
The water was warm, almost hot, and very soothing. The two prisoners sank into it and sat in silence. Ryke was visibly troubled. Keski's expression was blank, though the riolu could detect intense sadness radiating off of him. Ryke looked down and hesitated.
"Keski? May I ask you a question?"
"…"
"Are you…I mean, is what you said true? Are you really a prince?"
"Half of one, anyway," Keski said with a growl, "In Northmarch, lucarios occupy most of the positions of power. My mother was one of the king's imperial guard. They grew too fond of each other during one of Northmarch's 'crusades' and I was the result."
"Oh…" Ryke said, very softly, "And did you really kill a lot of Pokémon?"
"Without a shred of mercy," Keski replied, "The only ones I refused to kill were the kits. I…well, Roa and I were friends for a while. I had to justify my actions against the Midnight Kingdom and my friendship with her. So I convinced myself that the kits weren't evil, but all their parents were. That meant I was actually doing them a favor by murdering their mothers and fathers."
"I never knew my parents," Ryke said, "You weren't doing them any favors at all."
Keski jumped to his feet, face a mask of fury. "I know that now!" he roared, "And I don't need another person making me feel like the worst Pokémon on earth, thank you very much! I've changed! I'm different now! If only they'd give me a chance to prove it, I'd…"
Ryke scrambled away from him and pressed himself against the wall, eyes wide with fear. Immediately, Keski's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. "Hey, come here a sec." Ryke shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ryke," Keski said, "You didn't deserve that. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just…it's just been a very, very bad day."
Ryke nodded and slowly detached himself from the wall. "I'm scared, Keski," he said, "If you…if you turn against me too, I don't know what I'll do."
"I know." Keski opened his arms for a hug and Ryke accepted it. "As long as I am alive, I promise that no harm will come to you." He held the riolu close. "I'll go out in a blaze of fire and death before I let that happen."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, Ryke spoke once more. "Keski? Remember how Roa said that this was the cruelest thing Tyrone could have done?"
"Yes. I remember."
"Well, I wonder if she was talking about for us or for herself."
"You are Darkrai."
"I said shut up!"
Alzam laughed and skipped aside. Shadow's wild swings didn't even come within inches of him. "Come, my lord, why don't you tap into your real power?"
"Yes… NO!" Shadow pointed to the door. He ground his teeth together. "Just. Leave."
Alzam bowed. "As you wish, I will give you some time to…collect yourself." The crooked zoroark limped out and closed the door behind him. There was a faint click as the lock slid into place. Shadow growled. No getting out that way. This room was opulent and filled with all sorts of luxuries, but it was still a prison. He took a seat on the silk coverlet of his bed and sighed. Yes, all the luxuries he could think of, though Alzam said it was missing one. He had offered to fetch it for him and Shadow had been curious, until he learned what it was. The Midnight Court apparently had a large collection of slaves set aside for their beauty or other attributes that made them unfit for work but very fit for pleasure. Shadow shivered and quickly muttered a prayer that his friends would not meet that fate.
"Oh please…this is quite pathetic. Me praying to Arceus? I could almost weep."
Shadow gritted his teeth.
"Give me control. I can get us out of here easily. Your abilities are a pittance compared to my, our full might!"
"You are a monster," Shadow said, "I will not give you anything."
"And you are a thief! This is my body, my power, my life! You stole it from me and now I want it back!"
"No!"
"You cannot deny me."
"Try me."
"Shadow…"
"All that you are is a face in my memory. The rotting remains of a nightmare," Shadow said, "Well I'm awake now. That nightmare is over."
"Ah Shadow, this is not a dream. This is reality. This nightmare will never end for you. Give me control and…"
"Never! I will control you instead."
"You can't control me! I live inside you, foolish zoroark! Each day you will feel me devour your soul piece by bloody piece. In the end, nothing will remain of this…lie that has replaced me."
"Really?" Shadow laughed bitterly. "You want my life so bad? Well take it then! Go on, smite me! Swallow me in a nightmare and leave me broken!"
"…"
"You can't, can you? Because I am in control now. You are nothing more than a memory. My memory. And that is all you will remain."
"Oh, poor, poor, Shadow. You don't see it, do you? I am a part of you. I will always be a part of you. You don't even remember me properly yet. But you will. I am only a part of your memory, yes, but I will become such a large part that you will not be able to block me out. Every action you take will remind you of something I did. And you will be tempted to do the same. It is so easy, my way is. To fall is easy, it is standing that is hard."
"Your words are poison to whoever listens," Shadow said.
"Then I should be glad to have a captive audience!"
"Shut up! Shut up and crawl back into whatever recess of my mind you hid in before today!"
"You know, I've corrupted many humans and Pokémon in my life…"
"I said shut up!"
"But never have I had the opportunity to corrupt myself. This should be fun…"
Shadow's claws dug into the bed and tore the mattress. "SILENCE! ARCEUS DAMN YOU! Arceus…" His eyes watered and he looked towards the ceiling. "Please…help me…"
He curled up on the bed and wept, but though he did not notice it, he was not troubled by the voice in his head or Alzam for the rest of the day.
The next day…
"And so the great hero did say to the wicked beast, "Hold! Turn and face me! The judgment of Kyurem, bringer of balance, is upon you!" But the great beast laughed and scorned the hero's warning. He rose up on great, red wings and made war upon the mountains and the seas. Angered, the hero, bearing the legendary sword of his father, charged into battle with him."
Bolt stood in front of Tyrone's throne, reciting 'The Lay of Kyurem's Champion' to the court. No one knew exactly when it was written or what sort of Pokémon the main characters were, but it was an ancient story. Some said it came from before the Great Cataclysm when the human species still roamed the earth, but there was no conclusive evidence for that.
It was day two of their captivity. Keski lay chained against the pillar, though for the moment they were ignoring him. Bolt intended to keep it that way. He glanced back at Tyrone and shuddered. No one had ever survived fighting Keski, no one. What sort of monster must he be if he could?
"The brave hero strode forth with bare blade in hand. Though the monster raged and burned with hellish fire, he was not dismayed. He struck and his blade struck true. He pierced the monster's steely hide and spilled its blood upon the mountains. Let this, then, be a lesson. Do not be like the monster, but the hero. If you must fight, it is better to fight to protect something than to destroy it."
To his surprise, they applauded. "Another!" one called.
"Sure!" Bolt said cheerfully, "Would you like 'The Clumsy Custard'? Or maybe, 'Farmer Tanner Banner of Riverbend'?"
Tyrone chuckled and patted him on the back with his heavy paw. "Nah, that's enough for now. Sit and someone'll bring you something to eat." The tyranitar raised his voice and spoke to the crowd. "Ten days! Ten days and we slay our monster! We march to war and make our homes safe once again!"
The crowd cheered. Bolt, however, sighed. "They missed the entire point of the story. Modern literary criticism at its best…" he muttered.
"Excuse me?" Tyrone said. Bolt looked up sharply and realized that he'd been overheard. He grinned at the king sheepishly.
"Um, binary witicism!" he said, "It's the act of making a dual-sided pun! A pun on a pun! Twice the puns, half the price!" He cleared his throat. It was very dry all of the sudden. "Speaking of puns, what do you get if you dress an eevee up as a berry? A Luncheon…" He gulped. "Um…forget I said anything about eating my species…"
Tyrone stared blankly at him. "Well, you're a good storyteller, kid, but I think someone must have dropped you on your head when you were younger. You're not making any sense."
"Yes, your majesty!" Bolt saluted and licked his lips nervously, "A lot of people tell me that!"
Tyrone grunted and turned his attention away. "Where was I?"
"Misinterpreting a great story…" Bolt muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing!"
Tyrone looked suspiciously at Bolt, but refrained from any threatening moves. "Right. So, ten days! Will you be ready, my subjects? Ready to make a war so grand, so fearsome, that it will never be forgotten?!" They cheered and raised their fists into the air.
"Wow, that was a horrible motivational speech," Bolt said. Tyrone glared at him. "Here, let me try." He trotted in front of him and cleared his throat. "Friends! I come before you today to address a subject near and dear to my heart! For centuries now, a great evil has lain claim to every household, every kit and mother, every warrior and farmer! But today, today is the day that we will drive it from this place forever!"
All eyes stared at Bolt, most of them very confused. "Would you like to know what it is? Would you dare learn the name of the vastest of evils that this world knows?" Hesitantly, a few paws raised into the air. "Alright! Then I ask you to look around the room! Look at the ceiling, the walls, the floors! Look closer! No, closer! Almost there! Even closer! There! Do you see it?" Bolt pointed at the roof. "Right there! The greatest evil of all time!"
"Don't you see it? No, you can't?" They shook their heads. "Huh. Well that's odd. It's dirt, of course!"
They stared at him. A bisharp hesitantly raised a hand. "Dare I ask why dirt is the greatest evil of all time?"
Bolt smiled indulgently. "Because electricity is useless against it! And it gets everything dirty."
"It's dirt," the bisharp replied, "It does that."
"Exactly!" Bolt smiled happily. "So glad you understand!"
"What? I don't…"
"So! Pull out the mops! Arm yourselves with brooms! Let no speck of dirt remain in this fortress!" Bolt declared. The Darklings exchanged glances but made no move to leave. "Also…I believe that there cookies in the kitchen…"
"Cookies?!" an elderly murkrow in the back squawked. It immediately took off into the air and shot back toward the kitchen.
"Yes! So everyone, go get some baked deliciousness! Hurry, before they're all…eep!" Bolt was hauled into the air by the scruff of his neck and found himself staring Tyrone right in the face. "Oh! Hi again, your majesty! Did you like my speech?"
Tyrone's eyes studied him. "I think Greed must have been mistaken," he said to himself, "What is so special about you, hmm? Other than the fact that you're crazy."
"I'm…afraid I don't understand what you're talking about!" Bolt said cheerfully.
"Cut the crud, jolteon," Tyrone snapped, "I have a friend who's interested in you. Any idea why?"
Bolt glanced over at Keski, who shook his head slightly. "Well, who's your friend?" the jolteon replied with a friendly grin, "Maybe I'd know if you'd tell me." He kicked his hind legs idly. "So…you going to just suspend me like this all day?"
Tyrone snarled and set him down roughly and turned back to his subjects. "Yeah, so…ten days. Be ready and that's all." There was an awkward silence. Tyrone growled and glared at Bolt. "Bring out the next entertainment!"
The doors opened and Team Snowpaw was escorted in by armed guards. A few of them looked a bit frosty, but the three glaceons looked none the worse for the wear. They did look quite disgruntled, however.
Bolt grinned and waved. "Hi! Cia! Hi Cyon and Yuki! How have you been?"
Tyrone placed a heavy paw on his back and leaned close to him. "Do us all a favor. Shut up. You're not allowed to talk until we want another story." Bolt gulped and nodded. The king looked up at Cia and Yuki. He smirked. "Well! Don't you look lovely?" He took a seat and leaned back. "So, what will you be doing for us today?"
"Nothing," Yuki said with a growl, "We aren't dancing for your sick and twisted enjoyment."
Tyrone grinned. "She called us sick, boys! What do we think of that?" Laughter echoed through the chamber. "Well, if you won't dance, then we'll have to make you! Maybe a few lashes will get you in the mood to step lively, eh?"
Cyon stepped forward, frost gathering around his mouth. "You will not lay a claw on either of my sisters. Well, not unless you, ah, fancy being flash-frozen." He spoke lightly, but with deadly intent. "You see, I'm rather attached to them. I truly pity the one who lays a claw on them. That person won't thaw until next summer."
"Oh don't worry," Tyrone chuckled, "You won't need to worry about them. I'm sure we can find someone to keep you…occupied." He rose from his throne with a grin.
Bolt smiled uneasily. "You know, I could always sing another song…I'm glad to do that. There's really no need to…"
"Shut up, jolteon!" Tyrone roared, "Grab them, boys! Let's have some fun!"
"Tyrone!" Keski snarled. He leapt forward, but the chains pulled him up short. "In Arceus' name, stop! Please, leave them alone!"
Tyrone smile would have been friendly in any other circumstance, but Keski was not fooled. A chill went down the lucario's spine. "But Keski," the tyranitar said, "I'm sure you remember, right? This is part of your torment too."
"Tyrone, I beg you," Keski said, "Stop."
In response, the king punched him right in the chest. Keski choked and a trickle of blood leaked out of his mouth. "Aw, I'm sorry." Tyrone leaned in close. "Was that your broken rib?"
"Y-you bastard…"
"Bastard? No. I think you're the real bastard, half-prince."
There was a loud 'knock, knock, knock' at the door. "King Tyrone!" a guard called, "It's him, sir. He's back again."
"Well tell him to go away!" Tyrone shouted back, "We're busy."
"Yes sir!" The sound of something being exploding came from the other side. The guard's muffled grunt of pain followed immediately afterwards. The door burst open and a ninetales strode in, head held high and eyes filled with fiery intensity.
"King Tyrone," he said, "We have things to discuss."
The tyranitar rolled his eyes. "Well, well, the self-proclaimed prophet arrives. What is it this time, Ninetales, hmm? A plague will smite me dead if I don't repent and turn back from my evil ways? Or did you come to tell me something helpful, like who will win the next gladiatorial match down in the arena?"
"I come with a message from the Arceus, as always," the Pokémon replied. Keski's head jerked up, but he said nothing.
"And I suppose that you won't leave until you make sure we've all heard it?" Tyrone said.
Ninetales blinked. "Of course not."
"Heh, didn't think so. Well, let's get this over with." He moved back to his throne and plopped down. "So, 'Speaker of Truth', what's the latest word from Arceus, hmm? Maybe he was considerate and gave us the weather forecast?"
The newcomer strode forward into the middle of the room. His voice rang throughout the chamber and resounded even up to the ceiling. "Hear me, citizens of the Midnight Kingdom! You have suffered much, do not compound your suffering with needless warfare! Nothing but your own destruction will come of attacking Northmarch. True, you may triumph in battle for a day, but in the end not even the stone from which this palace is carved will remain! So says Arceus, let they who have ears hear and understand."
Tyrone sighed. "Well, Arceus only knows how to say one thing then. This is the same hogwash you've been feeding us for years! Has it come true? No. Empty words, that's all it is. And I think your head is just as empty!"
Ninetales met his eyes evenly. "So speaks Arceus," he said, "And Arceus is never wrong."
"Isn't he?" Tyrone chuckled, "Well, we have our own divine help! The Queen of Air and Darkness has promised us victory and as a token she sent one of her new servants!" He looked up at the ceiling. "Oh Eon! Get down here, boy! Time to put on a show!"
In a flash, a Pokémon appeared at the king's side. He was very clearly a latios, none could say otherwise. He matched the description given in all the stories. The only difference was that they never mentioned him having such dark blue feathers. They were always said to be light and lustrous, but these were dark and almost black.
The new arrival bowed to Tyrone. "You called?"
Cia gasped. "That's…" Yuki and Cyon clapped paws across her mouth.
"We know," Cyon said, "Don't. Say. A word."
Ninetales stared at him in disbelief. "Eon?! What are you doing here? And on Tyrone's side too?"
"Oh, I've been saved and now serve my queen," Eon replied, "As everyone will eventually. Her power grows by the day. Soon, she will reach out and touch the world once more. And then, you'll wish for the good old days when all you had to worry about was Yveltal or Giratina going on a rampage." He clenched a fist and grinned. "Who knows? Maybe she'll let me crush that imposter Mew myself! Ha! That would be a treat."
"Eon, what has come over you?!" Ninetales snapped, "You're a hero!"
"Wrong! I was Arceus' little messenger boy! Me and my sister ran around, delivering his mail for him and being good little guardian angels to whoever he wished." Eon glared. "But now… I've unlocked my true potential. Check this out." Sickly, purple energy flared up and coated his wings. His form blurred and, moving faster than the eye could track, he flew right over Keski's head. The lucario ducked, more by instinct than anything. He looked up and blinked. The pillar had a huge gash through it. It could have fallen at any moment. The two halves were completely detached and only the roof prevented it from collapsing.
"Eon!" Tyrone shouted, "Control yourself."
"Well sorry," the legendary snapped, "I'm just giving them a demonstration." He turned to the court and smirked. "Hear me, citizens of the Midnight Kingdom! Northmarch may claim the power of Arceus, but he is an impotent god! I am one you can see, touch, and hear! And I say that Northmarch will fall. I will personally lead the attack and, with the blessing of Yveltal, god of war, and the Queen of Air and Darkness, divine justice shall be dealt upon them!"
The Darklings cheered. Tyrone grinned and glanced over at Ninetales. "Anything else to say, prophet?" Ninetales remained silent. "Then there's no more reason for you to be here. Leave." To his surprise and delight, the ancient kitsune complied and turned to leave. Then, his eyes fell on Team Snowpaw. "You three! Get out of here! I don't want to see you here again for the rest of the day!" They stared at him in surprise. "Well? Go! Get out of here!" Without any further encouragement, they dashed out the door. Eon laughed.
"Run, little foxes, run!" he called.
"Now Eon," Tyrone said, "Talk to me for a minute, would you? Tell me how…"
Keski watched as the Ninetales passed by. "Hey."
He nodded absently, eyes on Eon. "Greetings."
Keski shifted uncomfortably. "Are you really a servant of Arceus?"
"Yes."
"I had a dream. He spoke to me."
Ninetale's head whipped around. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
"I'm…" Keski sighed. "I'm Keski, third prince of Northmarch. And you?"
"I am Ninetales." He held up a paw. "Yes, I know that is the last name of my species. That's because it was named after me. Now, about this dream you had?"
"Right…" Keski lowered his voice, "I was drowning in…well, in blood, and a voice told me that if I truly sought repentance that I needed to seek out the White Seer. So if you know him…"
"Her," Ninetales corrected, "The White Seer is one of my daughters. She's been around since before the humans left."
Keski blinked. "How is that…"
"She's very old."
"Oh. Right."
Ninetales examined him for a long moment. "Do you?"
"Excuse me?" Keski asked, "Do I what?"
"Do you seek repentance?"
"Yes! Well, of course."
He smiled approvingly. "I suppose we'll find out. When you escape, come find her at the Snowpoint Temple." He cleared his throat. "I must admit, Eon's presence here is…confounding. Would you…would you read his aura for me quickly?"
Keski sighed and focused on the latios. He frowned. His aura was eerily similar to the cacturne and hariyama that had attacked Seaside Crest. "It's…dark, but it doesn't seem natural. I met Pokémon like this before. They were both incredibly powerful and evil."
Ninetales was visibly disturbed. "That's not Eon at all… But…thank you. I will look into this." He rose and raised his voice. "Tyrone, I will take my leave now."
"Aw, going so soon?" Tyrone chuckled. "We were just getting to know each other."
Soul smiled humorlessly. "Another time then."
"Well, be quick about it! I already told you to leave once!" Tyrone warned, "After I'm done with Northmarch, your precious temple won't be around to send pests to bother me!"
Soul inclined his head. "I will keep that in mind. Goodbye, your majesty."
"Yeah, whatever," Tyrone muttered. He leaned his chin on his giant paw and glared at Soul's back until the door shut behind him. "Well now he's gone," the Armor-Pokémon growled, "Someone make sure he stays gone. Permanently."
"I can take care of it for you," Eon offered, "Say the word and there won't be enough left of him to make a fur napkin."
"No," Tyrone said, "Let me show you what my boys are capable of." He pointed to the nearest five. "You! Go and get rid of that bastard for me, huh?" They saluted and dashed out.
"As you wish…" Eon's feathers ruffled. He crossed his arms and floated off to the side in a huff. Bolt glanced around and, seeing no one was paying attention to him, stepped up to Eon. He cleared his throat, but the darkened legendary ignored him. So he tried again, a bit louder.
"Psst, Eon," he said. The latios looked down at him blankly. "What happened to you? Eona was worried about you and now you're… what did they do to you?"
He blinked. "You know my sister?" He leaned downward so they were nose to nose. "Where is she? I'm very interested in finding her again."
"I don't know!" Bolt said, "She's probably with Majyk."
"Majyk…the head of the Starchaser Guild." Eon repeated doubtfully. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you, exactly?"
"My name is Bolt!" He grinned. "I saw you a few times when you visited Dad and my uncles."
Eon eyes widened. "You're Raikou's son!" In an instant, he swept Bolt up and slammed him against a pillar. "Where is my sister?! What have you done with her?! Answer me!"
"She's safe!" Bolt answered, "Now please, put me down. Keski doesn't like it when I get hurt."
Eon growled. "Safe?! There is no safe place in this world! The Queen of Air and Darkness will rise up and destroy it with its own corruption! Now tell me where she is or I will start slicing off limbs!"
"No!" Bolt said, "Have you seen yourself lately? You're not at all the person Eona described! Even if there is no safe place in the world, I know for sure that she's a lot safer where she is than she would be with you!"
Eon shouted in rage. Dark purple energy enveloped his claws and he pulled back for a strike. "Then I'll drag the answers out of you with pain!"
"Eon!" Tyrone called, "Put the singer down. He's more interesting than this lot and it'd be nice to have him around for a bit."
Eon snarled and tightened his grip. Electricity crackled through Bolt's fur. "Stop!" Keski shouted. A golden blast of aura shot by Eon's head and exploded. Cracks spider-webbed across the surface. Eon's head whipped around and their eyes met.
"What was that?" Eon demanded, "Because that wasn't an aura sphere."
"You little…" Tyrone snarled. He rose from his throne and strode toward Keski. "Maybe I should take the whip to your hide myself!" Keski pressed himself back against the remains of the pillar and glared.
Eon dropped Bolt and floated over. He pushed in front of Tyrone and stuck his face in Keski's. "Well? What was that? An Aura Sphere would have reduced the roof to rubble. That just made a few cracks."
"…" Keski's eyes burned into his, but the corrupted Legend was completely unaffected. Understanding flooded the dragon's eyes and he chuckled.
"Oh, this is rich!" he said in Keski's mind, "The Golden Lucario doesn't know Aura Sphere?"
"Forget that!" Tyrone shoved Eon aside and glowered down at Keski. "You need to be taught a lesson. A lesson ya won't soon forget!"
Keski looked over at Bolt. The jolteon mouthed 'thank you'. Keski smiled. "Hey!" Tyrone snapped, "Ya paying attention or what?"
The lucario took a deep breath. "Do your worst."
Tyrone grinned. "Gladly…"
