Chapter 38: Farewell tea
Deramon watched with a mix of emotions as Ceresmon, his dear friend, descended from the sky in her imposing giant bird form. As he saw her approach, his heart filled with sadness, tinged with a hint of anxiety. He knew that Ceresmon's arrival meant he would soon receive news from her, and though he would normally be excited to hear her tales and adventures, this time his mind was clouded with worry.
Deramon couldn't help but feel a bit selfish. He adored Ceresmon's stories, and her lively and extravagant presence provided entertainment and companionship in his kingdom. But he also knew that every time Ceresmon came with news—good or bad—there was always a chance she might decide to leave again in search of new adventures, leaving him alone once more.
As Ceresmon gracefully landed on the ground, Deramon tried to hide his feelings behind a friendly smile. He didn't want his friend to sense his anxiety, yet he desperately longed to hear what had happened during her latest expedition. He was sure Ceresmon would have an exciting story to tell, though deep down, he feared what those stories might mean for him and his kingdom.
With a polite bow, Deramon approached Ceresmon to welcome her. His mind buzzed with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, wondering what new adventures and challenges his eccentric friend would bring this time.
Ceresmon landed elegantly, causing a slight tremor in the earth, then adopted her humanoid form. Her face was lit up with a satisfied smile, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. Deramon tried to mask his confusion as he watched his friend, whose words flowed in a torrent of enthusiasm and energy. The king's expression turned perplexed as Ceresmon began recounting her latest adventure on the Tamer Continent, describing exotic places and strange encounters with other digital creatures.
Despite his sincerity, Deramon couldn't help but feel bewildered by Ceresmon's tale. The king's mind was more accustomed to palace intrigues and court gossip than to adventures in distant, unknown lands. However, he knew he couldn't dampen his friend's spirits, whose energy and enthusiasm were infectious.
Forcing a smile, Deramon nodded and clapped his hands, signaling his subjects to prepare the tables in the royal garden. It was time for tea and to listen to Ceresmon's stories, even if the king didn't entirely understand her extravagant adventures. After all, there was no better entertainment in his kingdom than the unique tales of his beloved friend.
Deramon's royal garden was a true feast for the senses. A palette of vibrant colors dotted the landscape, with flowers of every shade of the rainbow in full bloom. The air was imbued with the sweet fragrance of roses, the exotic aroma of orchids, and the fresh perfume of lilies. The gentle murmur of water from the fountains blended with the soft rustling of leaves swayed by the wind, creating a natural symphony that caressed the ears of those strolling through the garden.
In a cozy nook under the parasol, the Kiwimon worked with a calm and coordinated rhythm, each movement accompanied by the soft clinking of porcelain and the whisper of feathers gliding across the table. Classical music resonated in the air, floating among the tree branches like a celestial melody. The gentle, elegant chords filled the space with an atmosphere of refinement and grace, enveloping everyone in an aura of calm and serenity.
The table was adorned with an array of luxurious details: silk tablecloths woven with gold threads, silver tableware intricately engraved with floral motifs, and crystal glasses that sparkled in the sunlight. Shining silver trays held an exquisite selection of pastries and snacks, while porcelain jugs contained aromatic teas from around the world, from delicate green tea to robust black tea.
As the Kiwimon finished setting the table, Deramon observed with satisfaction, delighting in the view of this visual and sensory feast. The intoxicating fragrance of the flowers, the gentle murmur of water, and the soft music wove together into a multisensory experience that lifted the spirit and filled the heart with joy and tranquility. Soon, he would share this idyllic scene with Ceresmon, enjoying an afternoon of tea and conversation in this earthly paradise. He had to cherish it while it lasted.
Despite the exquisite atmosphere of the royal garden, Ceresmon couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable with the classical music filling the air. The refined, elegant notes irritated her senses more than they calmed them, and each chord resonated within her with a sense of discord. However, as Deramon's guest, she made an effort to hide her discomfort and tolerate the music out of respect for her host's hospitality. She wanted to be the center of attention, and the music didn't quite match the thrilling story she was eager to tell.
As the Kiwimon finished meticulously setting the table, Ceresmon settled into her seat with a forced smile, trying to maintain composure despite the melody that unsettled her. Despite her personal aversion, she recognized Deramon's generosity in organizing this gathering and was determined not to let her dislike for the music ruin the moment.
Ceresmon and Deramon took their seats in the ornate chairs arranged around the elegant table. Meanwhile, the Kiwimon, with their characteristic diligence, began serving tea. The aroma of fresh herbs wafted from the steam rising from the cups, filling the air with an invigorating and intoxicating fragrance. It was a complex bouquet of mint, lavender, and citrus notes, wrapping everyone present in a serene and comforting atmosphere.
Deramon, intrigued by Ceresmon's expedition to the Tamer Continent, couldn't contain his curiosity and eagerly asked about her journey. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he awaited the stories and secrets Ceresmon might share about her adventures in far-off lands. He had always preferred traveling to allied kingdoms rather than embarking on faraway adventures himself. The monarch was more accustomed to receiving visitors.
The enormous canopy of a tree that crowned the garden provided them with a peaceful shade. Deramon maintained his solemn posture, his beak held high and his wings crossed over his chest, as he always did when expecting news from the outside world. However, this time, his usual calm was tinged with curiosity.
"I hope you have something worthy to tell me, Ceresmon. From the chatty and lively mood you've brought, I suppose you do," Deramon commented with a slightly mocking tone as he adjusted his golden crown.
"Oh, Deramon, what I've experienced deserves to be sung in every epic tale in the history of the Digital World. Prepare yourself, for this story is not for timid ears," Ceresmon replied with a theatrical flair that made her companion roll his eyes.
"Please, spare no details. I fear you'll give me a shortened version and leave me unsatisfied," Deramon replied, nodding for her to continue.
Ceresmon stepped closer, her voice taking on an almost conspiratorial tone.
"First, imagine this: a vast plain, reduced to ashes by an invasion of fiery Digimon. Meramon, hundreds of them, led by a fearsome SkullMeramon who evolved into Shroudmon right before my eyes. He commanded them with a ferocity I had never seen. A tribe of Jyagamon, terrified and trapped in the heart of the conflict, had been hiding in a nook of the plains for months, waiting for a powerful figure—a defender of the weak and a restorer of the natural order—to come to their rescue. And I, their only hope," she said, stretching her arms to emphasize her heroic role.
Deramon tilted his head, interested but skeptical. He had been present when Ceresmon was assigned her mission by Mercurymon. Deciding to tease her a bit, he aimed to extract a few more details—and some laughs.
"And how did these Jyagamon respond when their 'only hope' arrived to save them? Did they revere you? Build you an altar?" he asked sarcastically.
Ceresmon huffed, crossing her arms indignantly.
"Of course not! They greeted me with a shower of potatoes. Can you believe it? I, the goddess of agriculture, attacked by tubers. But no matter, I quickly put them in their place," she added with a proud smile.
Deramon nodded slowly, feigning understanding.
"Of course, because what could be more effective than proving your divinity by digging up a Jyagamon so the rest could stone you?"
"Exactly! Although, to be fair, my patience wore thin. I used my powers to demonstrate my superiority. I only weakened them enough to make them understand who was in charge. After that, I convinced them they needed my help to face the invaders," Ceresmon continued, ignoring Deramon's ironic tone.
"And what did you gain from this? Their unwavering loyalty?" he asked, leaning forward.
"Not yet, but it's on its way. I freed them from the Meramon group and the irritating SkullMeramon—or rather, Shroudmon. The battle was glorious, Deramon. You should have seen it. Flames flew everywhere, and I dodged them with exquisite grace. The Jyagamon, riding on me, assisted in the fight, hurling their explosive potatoes at the invaders. SkullMeramon even had to evolve to face me with all his might, but in the end, he was no match for me. My lava purified the battlefield, sending a clear message: you don't mess with Ceresmon," she recounted, every word dripping with pride.
Deramon narrowed his eyes, his wings twitching. He didn't recall these particular powers from his friend. He had always seen her in a relaxed setting, sipping tea and gossiping, not on a battlefield.
"You purified the battlefield... with lava? Are you sure that didn't cause, let's say, issues with the land?"
Ceresmon waved a hand dismissively.
"Oh, please! It's a special fertilizer. Granted, the Jyagamon didn't understand at first and looked at me as if I had destroyed everything. But they'll see the results. In a few days, that land will be teeming with life. And then, they'll have no choice but to accept my leadership and give me what I seek: the Corona Code and their eternal gratitude."
"Ah, yes, Mercurymon's grand mission. I wonder how he'll react when he discovers you've now established your base over a distrustful tribe and a field covered in ashes," Deramon remarked, though his tone suggested he was enjoying the drama too much.
"Nonsense. This is just the beginning, Deramon. What I've accomplished today will be the foundation of a new order. When the plants bloom and the Jyagamon see life return, they'll know I'm their savior, and I'll be able to establish my new plant kingdom there. It will be a marvelous paradise. You'll see," Ceresmon declared firmly.
Deramon chuckled softly, his plumage ruffled by the breeze.
"It's amusing how you turn every disaster into a personal victory. Still, I must admit, your story has merit. Although, if I'm honest, I hope Mercurymon doesn't hear about the 'adjustments' you made to his plan."
Ceresmon shot him an amused look.
—Oh, Mercurymon can say whatever he wants. In the end, only one thing matters: I'm the only one who can make all of this work. Without me, the revolution he's planning will fail spectacularly. And when I succeed, I'll be remembered as the goddess who restored order to this world.
Deramon shook his head, though the smile on his beak revealed his amusement. He knew better than to contradict Ceresmon when she started on one of her megalomaniacal speeches. Instead, he decided to change the subject, still curious about the details of her conflict.
—At least you never stop entertaining me. Now, how about telling me more about Shroudmon's ridiculous pants?
They both burst into laughter, as the twilight bathed the clearing in a golden light.
Deramon flapped his wings in a calm motion, but his eyes gleamed with curiosity as he settled on a low branch. From that perch, he gazed at Ceresmon with a thoughtful air, as if ready to ask a question he had been mulling over for some time.
—So, Ceresmon, with all this fuss about the Jyagamon and your plans to transform the plains, I have to ask… Are you planning to leave my valley and move to your new territory?
The question hung in the air like a feather, light but laden with intention. Ceresmon remained still for a moment, observing her old friend. There was something in the way he said it that made her realize this wasn't just a logistical inquiry—it was his subtle way of asking for clarity about her intentions.
—What can I say, Deramon? —she began, crossing her arms again with an almost melancholic gesture—. You've been an exceptional host, and this valley is comfortable, peaceful... —She paused as if reflecting deeply, then let out a theatrical sigh—. But I think it's time for me to leave. I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome.
Deramon tilted his head, analyzing her like a hawk evaluating its prey. The news was far from welcome.
—That sounds very considerate of you, but I know you too well, Ceresmon. I'm sure there's more behind your words. Or am I wrong?
The Olympian shrugged, feigning an innocence that didn't quite suit her.
—Well, if you insist… The truth is, this valley is charming, but… too charming for my taste. After everything I've been through, I need more than tranquility. Here, the routine is consuming me. The nights are too calm, the afternoons too long, and frankly, the few visitors you receive are… how should I put it… somewhat monotonous. —She gestured dramatically, recalling the dull incursions of the local Kiwimon and Pomumon.
—Ah, I see —replied Deramon, a sly smile forming—. So you've grown tired of the peace you once claimed to need.
Ceresmon chuckled softly, as if he had just uncovered a secret she had deliberately left in plain sight.
—It's not that I've grown tired, exactly. I just feel I need action. Though I appreciate your company, the retired life isn't for me. Transforming that land into an Eden will be a challenge that tests my abilities. Once everything is ready, I'll invite you to visit and witness my creation with your own eyes. Besides, I must admit there's something gratifying about having subjects to guide.
—Subjects, you say —Deramon replied, sharpening his tone as if he had just caught a key word—. And here I thought you were looking for companions to build something meaningful.
Ceresmon looked at him with a mix of amusement and defiance.
—Oh, Deramon, ever the idealist. Sure, I can call them companions if that makes you happy, just like you do with the birds you shelter in your valley. But we both know that, deep down, what the Jyagamon need is someone to follow—a beacon of leadership to restore what they've lost. And I, my dear friend, am that beacon.
Deramon let out a soft sigh, moving his leafy crown in a theatrical manner.
—Always so modest, Ceresmon. But tell me, how do you plan to earn their lasting loyalty? Because from what you've said, they still regard you more with distrust than reverence.
Ceresmon stepped closer and extended one of her talons toward a nearby bush. With an elegant gesture, she made a cluster of vibrant flowers bloom in seconds.
—I'll give them what they need, of course. Life, growth, abundance. That land will become fertile again, and when they see what I can do, they'll have no doubt that I'm their best choice.
—Ah, I see. So your methods are more persuasive than imposing? —Deramon asked, raising an eyebrow.
—Depends on how you look at it —Ceresmon replied with a smile that promised nothing good—. If they're quick to be convinced, it's persuasion. If not, well… I'm very efficient at imposing order.
Her comment drew a deep laugh from Deramon, who flapped his wings to settle more comfortably on his perch.
—I suppose nothing I say will make you reconsider. Although, if I'm honest, I think it's time for the valley to regain its serenity. Don't get me wrong, but your revolutionary energy has brought more activity than I usually tolerate.
—Activity? Are you talking about the Kiwimon getting lost in the underbrush looking for your famous fruit salads? —Ceresmon teased.
—And the ones who return three times a day because they can't resist my special tea —Deramon added, his tone solemn yet mischievous—. Ceresmon, let's admit it: you're great for a spectacle, but my valley also needs calm.
They both laughed, the sound filling the valley with an almost nostalgic echo. After all, there was a camaraderie between them that didn't need words.
—So, Deramon, I hope our next talk will be in my new territory, celebrating my success —Ceresmon said, standing and stretching gracefully—. But don't worry. I'll send you detailed reports of my conquests.
Deramon watched her, a mix of affection and resignation in his gaze.
—Do that, but try not to send them through a messenger you've "persuaded" too much. I prefer information, not implicit threats.
Ceresmon smiled broadly as she spread her wings, ready to retreat to her quarters.
—I can't promise anything, old friend. But I'll tell you this: my story is just beginning, and when I return, I'll have a tale worthy of an epic.
And with those words, Ceresmon departed for the time being, while Deramon remained, watching her vanish into the underbrush with a smile only an old friend could understand. He knew the goddess wouldn't stay much longer, which both saddened and relieved him.