CHAPTER 14

Date: October 30th, 110 P.A. / 2114 C.E.

Autumn deepened as November approached, and by the end of October, Arei, along with everyone else, was preparing for the largest celebration that Nocturne had by far—The Festival of Reborn Souls. Preparations were being made, with shipments of fireworks coming in by boats from the country of the God Rayquaza, the great dragon of the sky. The army forces that had been sent out to conquest the mountainous Rebel Base several months prior had returned in time to celebrate the national holiday. As Arei would come to understand it, the spies the Rebels possessed had reached the heretics before the militia could, and had evacuated for the most part. Some had chosen to stay and fight, to give the others time to fully flee and smuggle away their illegal wares. Indeed, of those who had stayed, many had been killed…and the few who had been caught had committed suicide before the troops had realized their intentions.

Only one heretic has lasted through the trip back to the capitol, having been under constant watch and less than polite searches for any hidden weapons or suicide pills stored beneath the flesh. Indeed, as Arei would later learn, this heretic, who went by the code name of Hawkling, had spent numerous dawns and evenings, when the desert weather proved mild, naked and walking at the center of the files, unable to escape. Besides a few lashings that had been meted out as the youth spat heresy at the guards, he had been treated well enough…at least, he was not close to death when he arrived.

But Arei was no less horrified at the prisoner's state when he was shoved before her and her God, all those around her grim and exchanging the news of the raid. The young man, with dirty blond hair and chestnut eyes was bundled in a tattered cloak, and as he was forced to bow before them, his white teeth grit, his eyes widened as he gazed at the new Priestess. He stared openly, and Arei stared back. There was something familiar about him, as it had been with the Commander…but it had a different feel. It went deeper, and it confused her. It would soon lead her to act again without through to add.

They openly discussed what sentence they might give the prisoner of war, and as they did, a General came up behind the twenty-some young man, heaving the wounded being to his feet, wrenching his head back and to the side by his hair, showing the mark of a heretic below his right ear, which appeared to have had a single earring torn from it. The sign was of two crossing lightning bolts, an eye peering out from behind them, the color of blood mixed with black ink. She had heard it was a symbol of what they believed to be judgement, free will, and knowledge of the truth. Abaddon's eyes were hard and cold as he saw the mark, which was no longer concealed by the powders and mud their group used to hide their allegiance. Seeing his god's anger, the man threw the heretic their allegiance. Seeing his god's anger, the man threw the heretic down, his head creaking sickeningly against the steps. Before she knew what she was doing, she stood and went to the bruised and bleeding rebel, knowing he yet lived. He might give them information on his fellows if interrogated, even tortured, so Abaddon's forces could not allow him to die.

He lifted his head to gaze at her as she knelt before him, then placed his arm about her shoulders, helping him up. As they stood, she glared at her militia, saying quietly, "That is quite enough. You may imprison this man if you wish—you have my consent on that, for his fellows threaten people I wish to protect. But you will not do so before his wounds are properly treated. He is a human like yourself, not scum, and I detest the thought that you are cruel people in what you have done to this man."

Her voice, despite how low it was, rang out in the shocked silence, her anger as deadly as her God's. To him she turned, and gave him a slightly softer look. "I will be in my quarters, attending to his wounds. Afterwards, you may do what you see fit of him and to me for what I do. Yet know, Abaddon, I will not regret it. You cannot make me feel guilt."

And with that, she helped her charge walk out of the room and up the flights of stairs to her God's and her floor. She set him down in a chair, then arranged some blankets and rugs on the floor, laying him out gently. Taking away his sullied cloak, she flushed to see him stark naked as he lay under her gaze, her eyes lingering before she forcefully averted them, covering him up partially as she checked him over. Mostly, he was bruised to a point which sickened her, his flesh ugly dark plum in places, greenish where some had already healed, angry red in others. She could do nothing for these however, and turned her searching over to cuts and lashes. There were numerous superficial scratches, but a deep gash stretched along his side, and even more upon his back.

She wiped the blood away, smearing the antibiotic healing ointment upon the wounds as her doctor had told her to when she had cut her legs on a sharp rock in the sea. She thought about using saltwater as a disinfectant, but in general he was quite clean, as were his lashes. She bound him with bandages, and he gazed up at her weakly, accepting the water she forced him to drink, mixed with various herbs to encourage healing. An ice pack lay upon one of his swollen eyes, and so he watched her with only one liquid pool of chocolate as she bundled robe's (Byron's, for she had snitched some in case she wanted to go into the sea…they were thick and heavy, and kept her warm even though her clothes underneath had been soaked) upon him, wrapping sheets about him to help keep him from being chilled. The outside hair was getting colder, after all.

Eventually, he spoke. "I do not believe anyone was thrilled with your words, woman."

She peered at him, mopping the blood from his forehead. "It does not matter…they have no say in what I do. My God may not be pleased, but I can deal with his displeasure when it comes."

She placed a bandage upon his gash, and he muttered, "Your God…?"

Arei paused. "That's right. Abaddon."

He took her hand gently, his fingers calloused, holding it in his…she knew he should not, that it was a violation of what was deemed sacred…as was the whole situation, now that she thought about it. But she did not pull away…not yet.

"He is false, you know. Your god is nothing more than a very powerful pokémon. And perhaps not even that."

She stiffened, ready to jerk away, but he kissed her hand, smiling. "Well, Serenity, I thank you. Even now, after he had twisted you to his ways, you are kind. Not as haughty, but kind."

This time she did jerk away…her heart sped. She did not know why, but a part of her was beginning to fight his words, even as she knew they were insane lies. She corrected him…perhaps too quickly. "You must have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Arei, and—"

"No, it's not. That's the name he gave to you after he raped your mind, erasing your real memories, abducting you from your real life to be his personal servant and twisting you to his will. He's molded your soul in whatever way he wanted…made you into this ignorant person you never were. I suppose there were some improvements…you are innocent now, in a deceptive sort of way. But really, Serenity, he destroyed who you were, just to allow this Arei persona to be born. He calls this rebirth—I call it brainwashing and murder."

She did not want to hear this…she did not!

"You're lying. You're a heretic, that's what you—"

He laughed, a bitter, mocking thing. "Yes, and the truth that twisted false god and his pantheon is hearsay. Serenity, think, remember…you KNOW the Apocalypse wasn't divine judgement, punishment! It was the will of a mistake, a monster that our human scientists made over a century ago to suit some tyrant's agenda. But then it got mad, and it wanted revenge! So, it made the storms and killed off BILLIONS of humans and beasts alike, a thing we didn't even deserve! We had a beneficial relationship with beasts—they weren't our slaves, they were our guardians, our friends! But your Abaddon refused to see it. He was scared of us, he hated our race, so he committed an almost complete genocide! He destroyed this world and let children dream up a new one. These deserts were once sprawling, beautiful cities and forests, and he made it into a wasteland. Your damnable Abaddon is evil incarnate, not some holy seraph for humans to worship. He is false, Serenity, and you damn well know that, somewhere inside of you, because your core, no matter if he stripped you of your life, is still the same!"

He seemed desperate to make her understand, but by this point, Arei was not truly listening. His anger radiated into her, and she sought to deaden her ears to his worlds. It was unreasonable, what he was saying. Humans had abused their world, so they were punished, and in this Abaddon had had consent from the other Legendary Beasts. The Hawkling was poisoning her with lies…he was wrong! He was wrong, wrong, wrong…!

But even as she thought it, the Hawkling smiled. Something inside of her clicked. She looked down at him, and suddenly knew his name. Kaien…Kaien! Memories of a single night swarmed her brain, picked at it, making her remember a room, a god, and a conversation where she had fallen to the seraph's ways, fighting him as he pried her mind open all the while. It wasn't true…she tried to shove it away. She tried, retreating from him, from the shadows of her own soul, and ran right into Abaddon.

His silent protest was now justified, for he sensed her confusion, her fear, her desperate need to know what was true, even as her mind already comprehended what her heart could not. For she could feel the difference between a dream and reality, though like the youth she was she threw up denial against a thing she could not stand to hear, that would destroy everything she knew if proven true, even as she felt it was no lie.

But it couldn't be…it could not be!

The Hawkling…Kaien…was a heretic, a speaker of vicious lies. And then she remembered one more name. And she knew she had to face the truth or else go insane: "Is your true name Mewtwo?"

His eyes widened, he went rigid…and did not reply with words. But his reaction told her all she needed to know. Abaddon was a fabrication, and here before her was the creature that had demolished her world in all its meaning.

"He was telling the truth, wasn't he? Wasn't he?!"

The creature who was not God took her wrists gently as she began to pound on his chest, shrieking, crying, begging him to answer, to tell her that Kaien had been lying. For she wanted to hold on to the pleasant dream, no matter how ugly it really was. Because in that dream, she was safe, untouched, within an existence full of ignorance and without the pain of the knowledge that the one being who made up her heart was not suddenly a strange who had done the unspeakable things that the traitor claimed. To the world…and to HER.

And Mewtwo saw he could not erase this incident without destroying her swiftly fracturing mind. And that knowledge did not appeal to him. For if he sought for her life, he had only one option. And that was to validate a heretic's words. He could not reassure her of the man's insanity. Only elaborate on his own, and of his past sins….

She would know him to be a monster soon. There was no alternative.

"So, you want to know the truth, Arei?"

She quieted and gazed up at him, choking out, "Yes."

But in the end, she would long to go back to the days where she danced in the gardens, savored the rain, and felt only warmth as she gazed upon her seraph. In every way, those who stumble upon terrible truths wish for innocent again. But once you learn something that great, there is no undoing its learning, there is no rewinding the time. Once the paper of a soul is crumpled, no force on earth or beyond it can make it perfect again. No matter what that person may wish….