Chapter four
Penance
The high archways of the building coated the upper skies in their majesty, calling fourth an era long since lost to the depths of man. Their wide steeples braced up the mighty weight of the roof with grace, dancing with practiced serenity. Decorations of sculpted runes branched along the necks of the spires, their words dead in the secrets of time. Ancient tapestries fell softly down from their arms, their depictions displaying the same three faded figures over and over again: a tyrannical Arcanine, a cunning Houndoom, and a magnificent Ninetales. These three Pokemon of earliest legend twirled about each other in an intricate dance, their red eyes always facing the unknown audience. The draperies opened their grips against the light of the stained-glass windows beyond, allowing the multifaceted light into the gargantuan room. The ever-changing lights hopped across the stone floors, every moment of every day portraying a different scene.
But all the majesties of the castle's throne room did not penetrate the deepest recess of the sanctuary, leaving the great chair of the dead kings in the darkest of shadows.
He laid a single arm across the arm of the throne, his back bared to the expanse of his castle. He caressed the stone wall with his free hand, running his fingers through the imperfections of time. "I have worked towards our freedom for more than a millennia," he whispered, his red eyes following his hand. "I have fought forces greater than this world has ever known time an time again…" The stillness in the air reverberated in a tangible chord, striking the audience to the ruler's rising anger with renewed vigor. "I have sought for every avenue to ensure our release, and you dare threaten my progress with that show of power?" He swerved on his heel, his red eyes boring into the mask of the man at the foot of his throne.
The man bowed his head in humility, his own red eyes narrowing in anger underneath the slender protection of his plumed hat. "Tirus, with all due respect," the second murmured, rising up from his somewhat respectful position with obvious distaste. "You don't seem to understand the bountiful wealth that has fallen upon us, despite our current forms. We have obtained a level of luxuries that we could never have known eight thousand years ago!"
"It is all a falsehood of promised lies!" Tirus retorted, wrapping around the front of his magnificent golden throne to seat himself on the plush surface of its face. "Kyron, you alone know the glories of our past endeavors among all those whom we call under our control. You know that these humans are fickle in their desires. All our earned glories could easily be swept away with the current of their minds, and all we have achieved will simply fade as these tapestries must." Tirus casually flicked his hand towards the magnificent works of art that dotted his castle as they were no more than a passing fancy. The tyrannical leader lowered his shoulders down, placing his elbows on the brink of his knees, and resting his chin upon his folded fingers. "This curse is a wretched anomaly, forcing us to use other, weaker Pokemon in place of ourselves!"
"Perhaps we shouldn't envision this as an imprisonment," Kyron hinted, slinking up to the left side of Tirus' throne, crouching down below the verge of the golden rest, his blood-red eyes barely breaching the lip thereof. The sly second-in-command placed one hand tensely on the brink of the golden surface. "We could easily use this…this gift that Arceus has granted us against him."
Tirus raised a single eyebrow, his shoulders loosing their tense stance. "How?"
Kyron slipped around to the darkness behind the throne, his hand keeping in contact with the smooth surface as he traveled, coming to a rest at Tirus' right. "Let us continue spreading the inflection among the weakest. Not even the might of Arceus was able to keep our full powers at bay. We could easily continue enslaving more and more humans," Kyron spat out the final word, his face contorting easily into a facade of rage. "While we finish our preparations for out ascent."
Tirus lowered his forehead into the webbing of his fingers, a smile playing upon his lips. Kyron moved forward slightly, his muscles tensing, thinking he had won the favor of his ally. Tirus began laughing, imperceptible at first, but as the seconds wore by, the sounds of his voice soon filled the echoing chamber. "Not even after eight millennia does this game get old, my friend." Kyron fell back, a scowl forming on his face. "You speak of returning, yet after your simple actions of late you have verily determined your path." Tirus lifted his head slightly, his eyes boring into Kyron. "You knew of the Carrier in Viridian forest. You knew of his importance." Tirus placed his hands firmly on the arms of his shining throne, shoving Kyron away. "You sent that agent with confidence of smoldering any hopes we could have of our return, keeping hold to the belief that his reputation would keep the operation a secret. But you erred." Kyron slunk farther back in the darkness, keeping his eyes trained down to the stone floor. Tirus swept a hand again into the air, dismissing the thought with a grin. "Spies within every possible network, my friend, is how one must survive as a pitiful human. My agents in the Viridian wood have procured the location of the Carrier, for the time being. You were being intercepted long before the thought of deception had even entered your conniving mind."
Kyron's head tilted slightly to the side, a knowing smile unwittingly finding its way onto his face. "Ah. Your scouts in the Blood Corps." He whispered. Kyron bowed, swooping his plumed hat off his head in a single gesture of respect. "Well done, my friend. Again you show your superior will."
The two long standing allies locked their bloody gazes, wicked grins trailing up their faces, and exchanged knowing laughter.
"And what of the wrench that was sent out to do your dirty work, my sly friend?" Tirus asked as the din of their mirth died down, leaving the throne room in its tangible silence.
"He should be reporting in soon." Kyron replied, placing one hand firmly at the pouch belted to his black belt. "No doubt without any word of the Carrier, if the measures you had taken were successful."
"It's a shame." Tirus said in mock nostalgia, shaking his head. "I had grown rather fond of his work."
Again the throne room rang out with the cold laughter of the two merciless men, their voices ringing with the pain that was soon to visit the eyes of Blackfire. The echoes slipped in and out into the very fabrics of the tapestries, sending the Arcanine and Houndoom into a flurry of movements, dancing about the stilled form of the Ninetales.
EC
Blackfire glanced about himself with a hint of nervousness touching his eyes. The hulking form of the Master's castle cast his own insignificant figure into a deep shadow, its towering precipice looming over with knowing superiority. Every few feet on the very verge of the citadel's crown prowled a minion of the Inner Sanctum, their dark eyes boring into the Team Rocket lieutenant. His escort of Arcanine let out a collective growl at his hesitance, forcing Blackfire towards the mouth of the stone beast in a hurried, faltering gait. Risking a slight glance towards his previous location, Blackfire saw the retreating back of his transport vehicle, the image of agent Dagger splashed across its windows. His gaze tightened in anger.
The doors of the castle swung open on their own accord, the melodic voice of the accursed Solstice ringing out from every crevice of the stone prison. A number of privileged Rocked grunts weaved around the belly of the antechamber, going about their daily business without even a passing glance directed Blackfire's way. They had seen this scene depicted time and time again, and they knew full well the consequences of coming to the Inner Sanctum under close personal guard.
Blackfire knew the implications all too well, having exploited them for his own personal gains in the ranks of Team Rocket. Within the underbelly of the assassin's corps, there were only a few higher ranking positions. If one did not perform to the exact liking of the Masters, they would be brought before Solstice, the arm of punishment in Rocket law. If their evaluation did not pass by the eyes of Solstice with the highest of marks, the failure would be marked for immediate processing by their successor. Blackfire could remember the day he had been ranked a lieutenant, the hot blood of his victim still wafting up the scents of his memories. He grinned inwardly at the recollection of the former lieutenants visage before he died, savoring every pain that lanced up his face.
Now it was his turn.
The Arcanine roughly shoved him down the very center of the hall, along a red carpet that was void of the wiser Rocket grunts. They proceeded slowly, savoring the rising bile that coated Blackfire's throat. Only as they neared the farthest door that marked the lair of Solstice did the swarming Rocket grunts look up, their faces masks of mock surprise and worry. But everywhere did the same smirk of knowledge spring up.
As with the front doors to the Inner Sanctum, these portals to the torturous domain of Solstice swung open on their own accord, opening inwards to the dark chamber with not a squeak of protest. Blackfire walked forward on his own power towards his doom, leaving the burning cult of Arcanine behind. He couldn't stop his feet from dragging onwards, though he begged them to stop.
For the first time in twenty years, Blackfire was afraid.
The doors closed behind him slowly, choking the delivering light down to the point of non-existence. Blackfire squinted slightly as his sight diminished, his normally adept hazel eyes catching nothing. The slight breeze that eased its way through the cracks of ancient castle suddenly froze, their fingers becoming tendrils of stilled ice, coating the face of the Rocket lieutenant in a blanket of fear.
"Blackfire." The voice mirrored the icy air, caressing the lieutenant in its mocking embrace. It resonated not from a single point, seeming to come out of the very fabric of the castle itself, echoing in Blackfire's head with an ominous tune.
A sudden movement behind him caused Blackfire to swerve around on his heel, though he caught sight of nothing in the gloom. The displacement of air continued rapidly, rushing forward with a lurching gait towards the Rocket lieutenant. It swept under him, lifting him roughly from the floor into its grip. The chair subtly wrapped chains around his startled arms, preventing any thoughts of escape.
"Blackfire," Solstice continued, drawing the full attention of the frightened man. "You have erred in the sight of our great Masters. You went against their direct orders."
Blackfire tried desperately to open his mouth; to scream at the accursed voice of Solstice his act of penance, but no noise could leave his lips.
"The Masters have placed their faith in you, and you deliver their trust with a sign of the utmost contempt. Your actions bring forth the premise of processing." The voice paused for a moment, letting its melodic tones ring about the black chamber. "What do you have to say in your defense?"
Suddenly Blackfire could find his voice. It ripped from his jaw with unpracticed horror before he could catch himself, sending the currents of icy air into a flurry of surprise. It took a moment for his voice to silence itself, allowing the lieutenant to catch his words. "T-the plan could not proceed!" He argued, his voice still ringing with horror. "I was intercepted in my work by a Pokemon trainer!" Solstice didn't offer its complementary scoff, telling Blackfire that he had captured its attention.
"Their name?"
Blackfire paused for a moment, his cautionary success giving him slight worries. He closed his eyes for a moment in remembrance, returning back to that fateful day three years ago in the village of Lavender. "Emayla," he growled. "The trainer with the white Lucario."
Again Solstice was abnormally quiet, the chill in the air increasing its frequency of heat as Blackfire warmed it with his trembling form. The minutes ticked by slowly. "The Masters will see you, Blackfire." Solstice whispered into the din.
Doors at the far end of the darkened room opened quietly inwards, allowing an influx of light to burst into Solstice's domain. Blackfire found himself rising slowly, his posture slightly bent in a respectful bow. Before his eyes even had time to adjust to the assault of brilliance from the throne room ahead, a dark voice reverberated from the end of the hall.
"Come forward, Blackfire."
EC
Emayla woke slowly, blinking several times at the dim morning light that bled into her eyes. She twisted around, burying her face further into the soft pillow. Recognition slapped her hard across her face, startling the Pokemon trainer, and causing her to wake with a jerk. Her red eyes focused instantly, bringing in the clarity of the stark white walls of the room. The bed she lay in was comfortably soft and warm, inviting her to slip back into the deep calm of sleep. Emayla panicked slightly as she wracked her memories for any reminiscence of what had brought her to this room, but her recollections revealed nothing.
A shuffling issued from the opposite side of the room, subtly drawing Emayla's attention. She slowly shifted her weight around, her rotations hardly causing a disturbance in the blankets. Her eyes breached her shoulder before her movements had ceased, allowing her red-tinted gaze to dig out the source of the noise.
Kael sat upon the chair placed at the side of her white bed, his head leaned back against the wall, his chest rising slowly in the whisperings of slumber. His posture was one of serenity, calming Emayla almost instantly. She eased back into the softness of the bed, easily piecing together what had transpired, her gaze roving over the nondescript white roof. She must have fallen into the arms of sleep on her journey back to Viridian city, and dear Kael brought her the rest of the way. From the angle of the mid-morning sun, Emayla discerned that she now rested in the higher reaches of the local Pokemon center. Another suspicion tugged at her mind, causing Emayla to raise her head slightly from its indent in the pillow. She smiled as her fears were released at the sight of the Pichu asleep in a pile of pillows at the foot of the bed, his small ears the only visible part of his body.
Emayla shifted her arms back in the bed, lifting herself up upon her elbows. The warmth from the dawn tickled her face. The Pokemon trainer closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the sun to warm her features, the soft sounds of her sleeping companions the only noise that dared enter her consciousness.
She stayed in that comfortable position for over an hour, simply allowing herself to be overtaken by the pure calmness of the day. Her eyes slowly opened as the sun peaked just over the lip of her window. Shifting her legs under the blankets, Emayla shuffled out of the warm bed without disturbing the sleeping Pichu, her feet pausing for a moment on the plush carpet. Sighing slightly, she rose slowly from the mattress, her fingers trailing against the sheets. With a half-glance towards her slumbering partner, Emayla scooped up her backpack from its usual side at the head of the bed, and slipped into the bathroom for a much needed shower.
EC
Kael shook his head slightly as he woke, his maw opening wide in a torrential yawn. The hissing of water not far in the distance drew his attention slightly, but he smiled and placed it out of his thoughts. The white Lucario rose to his paws, pulling out his arms to release the built up tension he had created upon sleeping. His tail remained on the chair as he paused, glancing over to the bed where his master had slept. Smiling slightly to himself, Kael set about the task of smoothing down the blankets, careful not to wake the sleeping Pichu. As his paws worked, his mind roved over the events that had unfolded. Tirus never sought to save the life of any beast, regardless of its relation to him. He was a passionate killer, enjoying acting as the deliverance of death. So why did he seek a single Pokemon? And in the Grove of Eternity of all places.
The Lucario glanced over to the closed door that led to the steam-filled bathroom, his eyes narrowing slightly. He had been guarding over Emayla since the day Arceus intervened, knowing full well of her former comrades' power. If Tirus and Kyron sought for anything, all of the underworld would unleash its might in their wake.
Kael's gaze was inevitably drawn towards the sleeping Pichu, the sole survivor of Blackfire's purge. He could feel an unearthly power wafting off the smaller Pokemon like a veil of smoke. It was subtle, but there was no question it came from the Pichu. His paw instinctively lifted into the air, chords of aura slipping from his body. The strands snaked towards the Pichu, their lightened depths curling around the sleeping Pokemon. As each lace tightened subtly around the Pichu, Kael flicked his wrist, causing the heads of each of the lights to bury themselves into the yellow Pokemon's body. His own aura sifted through that of the Pichu, searching for any anomalies, lightly brushing aside the untainted pools of energy as he searched. A harsher flux of energy suddenly manifested itself, its iron hard will pushing against Kael's influence. The white hot force of this intrusion rammed itself against the Lucario's aura, sending both the cords and Pokemon flying backwards in response. Kael slammed hard against the opposite wall, stars flickering in front of his eyes, his head spinning.
The whispers of the water suddenly stopped, and Emayla's voice echoed out of the room. "Kael? Is that you?"
Kael staggered down to the soft caress of the carpet, one paw clutching his aching head. "Yes," He called back, shaking himself to shrug off the pain. "Don't worry, m'lady. I fell off my chair, is all."
A pause issued from the bathroom, as though Emayla was not convinced. But the hissing of the shower water started again quickly enough, allowing Kael to collect his thoughts.
The white Lucario rose unsteadily, gazing in incredulity at the still slumbering Pichu. A sudden sting of pain trailed along his arm. Kael lifted his paw, gazing at the singed pad. A brand, burnt onto his skin, flared angrily into life as he watched, its blaze sending another tremor of pain into his body. The white Lucario snarled, sending fourth a concentration of his aura into his paw. The brand sputtered in surprise, flickering for a moment, before it sent back a wave of power of its own. Refusing to back down, Kael once again sent his might towards the blazing brand, his teeth bared in concentration. Slowly but surely, his willpower subdued the pain, allowing his aura to banish the foreign substance from his body, causing the brand to sputter and die.
Kael gripped his aching wrist with his free paw, gasping at the sheer power contained, unknowingly, in the small Pichu. If anything should release that might at its full potential… The white Lucario shuddered, immediately understanding the value of the Pichu in the hands of Tirus.
EC
"So she lives…" Tirus whispered, his thoughts still dancing over the information Blackfire had so satisfyingly indulged. His red eyes flashed as they were drawn back to the whimpering Rocket lieutenant, the blood that dared seep onto his carpets reflecting back into his eyes. "It was told that you had killed her three years ago, Blackfire." Tirus scoffed, his face unreadable.
Blackfire, his mind foggy from the agony that pricked his body, gasped several words in quick succession, their meanings indiscernible.
Kyron, a wicked grin sketched across his face at his most enjoyable game, ripped another knife from his seemingly endless supply, and stabbed it into Blackfire's exposed shoulder.
The Team Rocket lieutenant lurched forward, blood spattering down his side in renewed vigor, his face contorted in absolute anguish. "I-I was told…" He wheezed, coughing up blood from the depths of his punctured lungs. "That she… had been eradicated."
Tirus laughed, the cold chill of his voice burning into Blackfire's soul. "My dearest Amarri–"
"Emayla." Kyron corrected, disguising his words as a rather hacking cough.
Tirus smirked. "Of course. Emayla." His fingers once again intertwined with one another, allowing a webbed pedestal for his chin, which he readily accepted. "My Emayla would never be that easily defeated. Ever was she known for her craftiness at my side during our greatest rule." He paused, sinking back into his deepest memories. "And you believe she has retrieved the Carrier?" Tirus asked, a plan already formulation in his mind.
Blackfire nodded in spite of his pain, his eyes begging for a release.
Tirus chuckled easily, leaning back into his ornate throne with grace. He and Kyron exchanged knowing glances, information passing between their crimson gazes in an instant.
Kyron lifted his head towards the limitless expanse of the castle's roof. "Solstice!" He cried, his arms spread out on either side of him, the blood-coated daggers of torment loosely fitted into his fingers. A premature chill entered the room, announcing the arrival of the unseen force.
"Yes?" Solstice whispered, the voice echoing off every possible angle.
"I'm afraid that our friend, Blackfire," Kyron glanced down towards the cowering man, his eyes sparkling with malice. "Has run his course. Please take him to the holding chamber in light of his processing."
"Of course." Solstice replied. The chill grew with intensity, gathering at the focal point around the sagging body of the Team Rocket lieutenant. A sudden gust of wind erupted into the room, sending the tapestries into a flurry of movement. Blackfire's body became less and less substantial, fading into the background with the blink of an eye. Within a few passing moments, he disappeared completely, leaving behind a rather flooded pool of blood.
Kyron lifted one of the daggers up to his nose, sniffing slightly at the fine blood coating on his delicate weapons. His nose scrunched up in distaste. "Pathetic creatures." He spat.
Tirus nodded his head in agreement. "Patience, my friend."
EC
Emayla pulled her jacket across her shoulder blades, sighing in satisfaction as she pulled her fingers through her wet hair. The mirror, still fogged over from the perspiration of her shower, revealed only a blurred image of her. Emayla ran her fingers over the cold skin of the glass, leaving behind a clear streak amidst the fog. Her blood red eyes stared back at her, their thirsty depths showing her history. Her dew-laden fingers brushed her eyelids, tempering her crimson gaze. "How long has it been?" She whispered, her voice dampened by the moisture bloated air. "How long has it been since I have tasted fire? Eight millennia? With every passing year I lose less and less of my memories… I'm forgetting who I am." Emayla fell forward, clutching the edge of the sink with both hands in a desperate attempt to steady herself. "I used to be Amarri. I used to be a Ninetales, powerful and benign. The world bowed before me." She lifted her gaze to the empty streak upon the mirror, staring hard at her bloody eyes. "Back then…" She shuddered. "I was hailed as a deity. But now…" Her eyes narrowed darkly. "Look at me! Encased in this shell of a body!" Her voice rose to a raging pitch, the reverberations echoing far across the border of the door.
A soft knock broke into her thoughts with a shattering crash, startling the Pokemon trainer. "Lady Emayla?" Kael asked through the door, his voice lowered in concern. "Are you alright?"
Emayla took a few steadying gasps, inwardly cursing at herself for her moment of weakness. "Yeah. I'm fine." She replied, running her fingers again through her wet hair. The Pokemon trainer gripped the nearby handle of the door, turning it slightly. She met a slight resistance at her pull, indicating Kael's presence on the other side. The pressure lifted immediately, however, at her touch, allowing Emayla to easily pry the door open.
Kael watched her exit with calculating eyes, his stance defensive. "The day wanes," He stated, rising slightly from his tensed position. "The rest of your Pokemon are downstairs with the medical personnel. Its time we should retrieve them."
Emayla nodded, eyeing her partner's actions with more than a passing interest. He kept his right paw slightly behind his back, angling his body to keep it out of sight, his eyes holding a trace of pain. "Kael? What happened?"
The white Lucario tensed slightly as his master neared, his eyes never once leaving her face. Emayla gingerly lifted his paw in her hand, bringing it nigh to eye level. Upon immediate inspection, she noticed the subdued brand. Small tendrils of almost non-existent light wrapped around the brand in a protective barrier, acting as a shield. Emayla lifted her free hand and softly ran it across Kael's paw, causing the Lucario to jerk his arm away swiftly.
"What happened?" Emayla repeated, her tone carrying with it the slightest hint of force.
Kael's eyes narrowed slightly. He took a tentative step backwards in defense, but Emayla matched his pace, even taking it a motion further, her form at an impossibly close distance. Her blood-red eyes bore into his, carrying with it only waves of concern.
Kael took in a sharp intake of air as her breath fanned his face. "The Pichu," he admitted. "He's got some kind of perversion in his aura. When I tried to remove it, I was attacked."
"And the force harbored inside that small Pokemon did this?"
Kael nodded, backing up a step, trying to put some distance between his master and himself, his head still throbbing. "It's a power unlike anything I've ever felt." He continued, glancing towards the sleeping Pichu. "I have no doubts that the energy in that Pokemon is what Tirus is after."
The Pokemon trainer's gaze followed Kael's lead. "He has found it." Emayla whispered, her pulse quickening. "He has found the instrument in our release…"