That. . .was. . . amazing Pummel!!!! <3<3<3
I'm gonna enter Advanced, but now I'm not so sure of where I rank xD I'll try, anyways! *stubborn'd*
Now. . .lets see what I can whipp up off of the top of my head >n<
Alright bear with me! There are three things going on in this story! The main part, flashback 1, and flashback 2. They'll make sense later on ^u^
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"W-w-here," His voice was cut off in the roar of the stampede. He hadn't a clue where his mother was, why he was so far away from her. He had listened to her soothing voice for what seemed like a lifetime; and he loved her stories of she, and of his father, and of what everything would be like once he came out of this shell.
His small, inexperienced imagination had come up with a lovely picture. A picture of perfection, of freedom and carelessness and happiness and a family that he would fit into and love and love him back and everything would be perfect!
This? This wasn't anything like he imagined. Big digimon were everywhere, with smaller ones(but still bigger than him) in their tracks. They were all charging toward the same place, their big feet stomping in the same direction. He tried fighting the flow of things, but he was only a baby. . . his only hope was to follow.
But as he did, he had to avoid the feet and find a way to block out the noise. He tried to imagine something, but he had nothing but his thoughts in his egg to keep him occupied. His imagination and. . .the thoughts of his mother. His mother! She had to be here somewhere! "Wh-here are you!" The little digimon fell into a coughing fit, before shuddering and hacking up the debris that fell into his little lungs.
"Mommy? Come get me, I- finally hatched! I-"
When the scream hit his ears, he wasn't sure where it came from or who it was. But whoever it was was hurt and lost and confused, just like him! He turned, frantic to know who had been let out the yell; but that was before the sparkles hit his eyes. . . and the world. . .started t. . . o spin.
He was out before he knew it.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She stood before him trembling. His eye sockets staring through her very being. The little girl didn't know what she had gotten into, just picking up the little digimon that was laying in a field. He was all chained up and bruised and battered, she could tell that he was just a baby.
If she had known that it was bad, and wrong, and that she'd end up in this much trouble, she wouldn't have done it. Her mother had continuously told her to follow the rules, and to always always always avoid the big black castle that gazed ominously down at their little village.
But the digimon was hurt!
"I-I di" She tried to speak, but her voice didn't reach her tongue quite right. She flinched as the digimon in front of her let out a chuckle, his warm, rank breath meeting her nose and making her cough. It quickly left her lungs, but the smell would linger in her nose and mouth for days.
The chuckle soon erupted into a full out laugh, a cackle that chilled the girl to the bone. She felt humiliated and terrified and angered and confused all at once, just wanting to knock this big bony digimon over!
But as soon as she thought that he stopped, tilting his head almost curiously. . .before he frowned, spitting at the girl in front of him. She quickly darted out of the way, the dark, thick layer of saliva that hit the floor wasn't something she wanted on her.
When she looked back up from the floor, his words had stopped meeting her ears, and she didn't catch a word the big skeleton man said. . . not until his very last sentence.
"Don't worry, it won't be here much longer."------------------------------------------------------------------------------
8 Years later. . .
I could tell you that the night was cold, and that the air was filled with heavy morning dew. I could tell you that the sky was still dark near the West, and that the stars were just beginning to twinkle out of the sky. I could tell you that the ground was rocky and slowly cutting into the feet, claws, paws, and paddings of every human and digimon walking upon it.
But that wouldn't tell you much of what happened would it?
Hopefully this will.
It was January 27, and we had been walking a month now. We were exasperated, running low on provisions such as food and water. I couldn't tell you how much agony was on any one of us. Even the best off were in utter hell, pain with every step, dizziness with every turn or pause.
I get nauseous even mentioning the blood. It was everywhere! Caked onto our clothing and supplies, charred and beaten in and out of our skin. We were the victims of fighting, of. . .violence. Of war.
Our numbers were thin, we poured in in the thousands, and now? Only a stray hundred or so would return home. Some without their partners, some without friends. Some had even lost their entire family. . . I believe it's safe to say there was nothing left for us at home but more blood and more pain than we could ever imagine.
"Sh-sharah?" I was snapped out of my downward spiralled reverie by Pan, my Kudamon partner. He was wrapped snuggly around my neck. The digimon was usually so at peace, green eyes sharp and searching. I couldn't look at those emerald irises anymore. Not now, not when they were so dull. . . so hopeless.
I answered anyways. "Yes Pan?" My voice meant to be strong, to give him some sort of re-assurance, but it cracked, and struggled to come out as anything more than a mutter. He tucked his ears back, flashing a look of surprise, then sadness, and back to the simply broken look on the faces of most in this group in the first place.
"I-it's nothing, Sharah."
It was times like that I wished that I could see what he was thinking. Pan didn't come to me like my other partner, Renamon did. I et him first, but he was different. Different because I found him, out there looking for his mother. The little guy was so small, I wasn't really sure just what kind of digimon he was. . .but the blood was so caked on in some spots, it was no telling what color was underneath.
It seems like it happened so long ago. . .
The thing that I'm sure of, that he just won't tell me is what happened to his parents to begin with. They were killed, killed by our enemies, the digimon we're fighting in the first place, those under the rule of him. Of Daemon. The ruler of all things that we hated. And for every ounce of malice we held against them, they poured back onto us. With jeers and humiliation. . . but here lately, they've been using pain.
Anything they can do to make us cry out, they'll do. Killing those we're close to, or simply pushing us around. Entire towns have been burned down, and even slaughtered single handedly; just to hear the screams of children, adults, and digimon of all level and age.
And the thing that hurt most, was the fact that I myself had seen the sickening gaze of the digimon that was the source of this. I haven't told a soul, the words always turned to acid on my tongue, rendering me speechless to even make up excuses about what was wrong. I hated the memory, and more importently, the digimon within it.
"We have arrived." A strong, female voice this time. One that everyone here immediately recognized. Dianamon had led us into battle, she had been standing in for another digimon, one that I didn't know myself. People say he was strong, and valiant, but weren't all leaders?
My thoughts of Daemon died away, and a new feeling bubbled up in my chest. . . contempt. Contempt for Dianamon, and for every single person here that dared to challenge such an impossible enemy. For her, and Pan and lastly? For myself.
The contempt didn't just die away, but grew into anger, and a hopelessness that I didn't think could get any worse in the first place. Because we were home but. . . it was gone.
Everything was destroyed, burned, crushed. . . it wasn't where I grew up, but now I have nothing to call. . .to call home anymore. No where to go and wrap my wounds and call it a night. Though it wasn't night anymore, the sun long since coming up during my brooding.
"What now?" A voice whispered, for a moment I was sure it was me, but it was Renamon, the digimon that had bravely walked beside me all the way home. She was a warrior, and I couldn't believe that such a strong digimon could bond to me. My bitterness softened at her question, her voice reflecting what feelings were left in me to the point.
"We find somewhere else to go I guess." I whispered back, eyes stinging with unshed tears. They wouldn't get me anywhere anyways. They wouldn't get anyone here anything. Not their families or friends or comrads or pride or. . . or even the little shacks they called home.
She looked down, soft gold fur matted and dirty. She truly looked as if she had recently been trampled on, an eye swollen and the very tip of her ear grazed, slightly, but noticeable. Sharah's heart hurt at the thought of her digimon's vanity. She'd never get over that one, would she?
Not even her tail survived the battle without something to remember it by. Half of it dangling awkwardly. Sharah would bandage it up and it would heal on it's own. But. . .what would she bandage it with now?
A whimper told me that Pantalaimon had met his breaking point, his trembles letting out the fear and dread of times to come better than he could ever tell himself. "There, there Pan." I said quietly, cooing and picking his fuzzy snake-like body into my arms. "We'll be alright." I said, not believing my words, but taking in my digimon's own hopeful glint as my own.
Renamon only sighed, believing me about as much as I did. With a half-hearted scoff she went to scourge the village for anything that might have survived the pillage. There wouldn't be anything left. . .there never was.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dianamon's heart sunk as she saw the tatters of her little villiage in the soft light of dawn. It was rather bittersweet to look at, the new day was supposed to be inspiring, to fill them with a sense of what was to come.
All she felt was dread, in her and around her.
But she couldn't let those that followed her so valiantly down now. She had to keep fighting. She had to keep them going, give them a reason to keep going. Because without proper motivation, they would never win.
She would have to find a way to get these broken soldier's spirits lifted, and fast. Because once the shock, and the dread and the terror left their bodies. . . they wouldn't feel anything without something to look forward to, to smile at.
Revenge wasn't the way they would win this war. She kenw that, as did those that fought for her. But she couldn't think of anything a single one of them would want to fight for at this moment. How could they look forward, grow stronger and fight for the better of all people, and all digimon? How? When they just had everything taken away from them. . .all in a single day.
She ignored the whispers and sneers of hatred flashed her way at each other. Dianamon knew that she had to give these digimon a sign of hope. But what kind of hope could she give those who were no longer hopeful? For eight long years, somevof these soldiers had been fighting. That's eight years worth of death and yearning for a better tomorrow. She couldn't promise them that, not when it had been ripped from their hands so many times before.
The leader shuddered, a pain coursing through her body. All of the eyes on her, waiting for orders, for something that could make this all better. There was nothing she could do, couldn't they see that? She had led them the best she could, though she wasn't as strong as their previous leader, she had the heart to do this! She had the. . .the spirit! The will! The. . .
None of that was enough anymore though. . . she knew she wasn't half the leader Sleiphmon was. He was a leader, someone to depend upon. A friend that at times, seemed like he could never be beaten. He was the one who should be here now, telling these warriors that they needed to pick up and try again if they ever wanted to get anywhere.
But he wasn't. . . and Dianamon couldn't force herself to speak for something she no longer believed in.
Because in the end, Dianamon knew she could never empower a resitanceless revolution.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
7 Years Prior. . .
Sleiphmon roared, attacking Ultimate Daemon, hitting him head on. "Odin's Breath!" The air became icy immediately, the cold bitter feeling freezing Sleiphmon's own core. But he couldn't stop, if he kept fighting, he could finish this digimon off. He could take him down, and lead this revolution to victory!
UltimateDaemon cackled, letting flames shoot from his hands. He was a master at sorcery, in all of his thousands of years on this filthy planet, he had never been defeated. Why would this "sleiphenir Monster" Do anything to harm him now?
"Feel that?" He asked slyly, his voice deep and unbelievably powerful. The ice that had shot toward him and clamped around his sides and all but frozen his wings solid crackled. The steam rising from them gave him an omnious appearance, making him seem even more impossible to beat than before.
"That's the power of Algol's Flame." He chortled, fire dusting around his fingers and whithering itno black glowing embers before fading from existence.
Sleiphmon watched, taking in a breath as his attack was all but rendered useless. He gasped slightly as the other digimon came closer to him, backing up slightly. But he didn't loose his focus. He couldn't. If he lost his nerve now, he might as well spit in the face of all who followed him.
"Inferno Frost!" Sleiphmon yelled, releasing an icy arrow into the UltimateDaemon. The digimon squealed, the scream of pain then turning into a bubbly aray of gasps and disbelief. . . Sleiphmon only gawked, eyes slightly widened.
He had won? this was it?
UltimateDaemon whithered into the ground, nothing left of his presence at all. It was like he was never there, . . .like this battle had never happened. It had been going on so long now, Sleiphmon had a hard time telling himself it was over.
Maybe? It was because it wasn't.
"Dark Spreader." A sinister voice echoed through the castle square Sleiphmon stood in. He looked behind him, then up, arrow ready to be fired at his attacker.
"Fight me like a Demon Lord! Come out here and fight me face to face." Slephmon snorted, ice coming out of his breath. He wouldn't be a part of this digimon's games. He wouldn't be pawned like some sort of piece to an unseen puzzle. This was ludicrous!
With a cackle, darkness overtook the sky. . .then the battlefield. . .then Sleiphmon himself.
. . .And Sleiphmon thought no more.------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Present Time
The town had been scourged of all that was left in it. Just as Sharah knew it would be, there was nothing left. What survived the fire was trampled on, and that wasn't much to begin with.
I curled further around Sharah's neck, she was asleep now, and I couldn't get myself to do the same. I was tired, yes, I fought as Leppamon, beside Kyuubimon in the battle that we came from. My muzzle ached where a Starmon had flung itself at me hoping to finish me off. Luckily Vixi covered for me, shooting flames at the digimon until he came yelping off.
Speaking of Vixi, she must have been tired too. She yawned and glanced at Sharah, making sure her tamer was alright. I wished that Sharah was my trainer, it would be amazing to have someone that really belonged to me. Like a family. . .
She took care of me, and had been doing so for so long now, I was eternally grateful to the girl. Even as a child, she was a wonderful surrogate parent, making sure I stayed out of trouble and stayed far, far away from the castle she had found me.
I remember little to nothing of my birth parents accept for a lullaby and a promise. A promise that. . .that we would always be together. She sounded like she was so sweet and caring and amazing. . . I don't know who could've taken her away. I know I wouldn't hurt her, why would anyone else?
I yawned, slowly slinking off of my place on Sharah's neck. Immediately I curled my tail around my pipe, my most prized possession, the only thing I have at all of my father. It has Sleiphenir written in it in tiny letters, but I don't know what that means. . . whenever I ask other people about it, they shrug, not knowing what to say.
Digimon that see it only look at me incredulously, scowl and say to stop playing jokes like some kind of kid. I only frown and pick up my pipe at those times, eyes tearing up in frustration. The only key to my heritage, and no one would give me an honest answer to who I might be.
I looked over at the once prosperous town that I called home, but it wasn't anymore, was it? I sighed, staring up at the starry night. There had to be an answer to this conflict. Something that would help them pull through.
The good guys were supposed to win, right? They were supposed to triumph over the inevitable and pull out onto. . . but it hadn't happened for years, what would make now any different? I sighed, blanking out and staring at some random part in the sky. Slowly the sky became brighter, and I figured it was just the stars playing tricks on me. . .
But they kept getting brighter and shining with a light that could blind anyone in due time. I cried out, closing my eyes to the white, but it still hurt, and I could still see it with my eyes closed, and I shivered, feeling a great prescence beside me.
You, my son. You will make the difference. When I opened my eyes and looked over, it was gone, and the stars were normally colored. . . well, I assumed so, the colorful spots were still flashing after the blindness passed. "M-me?" I whispered, the words that played in my ears. . . or was it my head? Repeated over and over, making me dizzy with the strength in them.
I must be delusional, me making a difference in this war. . .please.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He woke up shivering, left to slowly be covered with the first snow of the season. His soft fuzzy fur normally would blend perfectly into the white blanket coating the ground; but he was currently coated in blood, some his from being literally stepped on. . . but most from the digimon that trampled past earlier.
He blinked, eyes adjusting to the drastic color change, taking in his new surroundings. Was this really where he was before? All of the big digimon were gone now, he was all alone.
So there was no reason he couldn't leave, right?
But as hard as he pulled, there was something holding him back. The little digimon whimpered and tugged, tears meeting his eyes at the pain that coursed through his neck. Wait, his neck? He wiggled a bit, trying to look down at what was restraining him, but he just couldn't move enough to find out.
Until he turned around that is. He was being held down by a chain, and it inevitably led to his neck. The digimon muffled a sob, frantically searching for something that could set him free. "H-help!" He squeaked, over and over again. But still, no one came.
"H-h-help me!" His chittering greatly affected his speach, leaving his voice on his tongue. He cried, and tugged more before gasping. There was someone here! Those were footsteps! Maybe his mother was here!
"Hello there little digimon." A soft, feminine voice spoke to him, and the first thing he saw when he looked up were big blue irises, as small and childish as his own. "What are you doing out here all alone?" She gasped, at his wounds, noticing the small patch of white underneath all of that red.
"Why you're all bloody!" The little girl exclaimed, wiping a smudge of red off of his face after licking her thumb. It was an action her mother had done when she was dirty after playing outside too long in the fall. "Hold on, I'll get you out!" The little girl ran off, looking for something that could get this digimon out of that chain.
Who would chain up a little digimon like that?
Little did she know she would soon find out.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dianamon stirred from her half hearted slumber. She couldn't force herself to sleep, not with the troubled conscience she was suffering from. Something felt. . . something didn't feel right. But it didn't feel like anyone was in danger, so the leader only sighed. It was probably her day dreaming that stirred her, not something in the air.
A real leader would have been able to tell differentiate a dream from reality. She thought to herself, clenching her jaw and keeping in her tears. She looked over to the little digimon that was straying from his tamer, Sharah Ngyuen if she was correct. The little girl had lost her parents to this war, and had been living with her two digimon partners ever since. The three were inseparable, and Dianamon wasn't sure how they of all the soldiers with her, managed to stick together longer than any other close nit group here.
They must have seen more than many others here, many of these revolutionary recruits were recently plucked out of their villages as they passed by. Dianamon never forced anyone from their homes, but those that were ignorant were oh so willing. If only they knew what heartache was in store for them.
When a caw revirbirated around the campsite made, Dianamon looked up, takin in the much welcomed site. A digimon from the other team of revolutionists. A smile reached the large, white clad digimon as she placed her arm infront of her, a perch for the coming digimon.
"Aquilamon! You bring good news, I'd expect." Dianamon laughed, a bit of joy breaking through with the chance of this message being somehow helpful to she and her troops.
The giant bird ruffled his feathers, letting out a coo of excitement. "Yes ma'am, I wouldn't have come so far if I had not." His chuckle was a bit of a rumble, and his words found themselves temporarily fumbled in the presence of his old leader. He was a general, third in the command of thousands, and here he was, becoming bashful in the wake of an old comrade. "One, you really need to take it easier old friend, you look like the dead."
Dianamon shook her head slightly, knowing that he truly couldn't tell what her face looked like under all of this amour. He was such a sweetheart, she was almost surprised that he had made it this far, but ir didn't take long for her to remember what strength lie underneath the goofball. "And what else?"
"Two, you, and your troops of course, have been invited to join our squad. We are but a few days of a walk from here, and even less by air." He ruffled his chest feathers in a show of pride. "I myself made it here in less than a day." Dianamon only smiled wider.
"And lastly, we may have found a way to stop Daemon." He said the last message quietly, and after glancing to both of his sides with his eyes, making sure they weren't being watched. This information was incredibly important, and even more private. He whispered what he needed to inform her of, and she glanced over at the place Sharah was sleeping, a look of surprise dancing in her irises.
When he was done, Aquilamon cleared his throat, once flapping his wings. "We must get going, as soon as possible." He nodded, the strong look of a leader shining through his friendly face. Even through the horns and whatnot, Dianamon could never be afraid of this digimon. He was, honestly, the best friend she could ever ask for, even if she didn't see him half as often as she wanted to.
"What is your answer to our commander's offer?" He knew she would agree, they had heard of their recent loss against Daemon's forces. It was tragic, but in order to keep going, these soldiers would need rest, provisions and the strength that came in numbers.
Dianamon looked over at her sleepless comrads. They would start traveling in the morning, and through that night while their blood was pumping. "We will gladly join your forces." She said with a hopeful finalirty. This was such a blessing, such generosity Valkyrimon had, inviting wounded soldiers to join his own.
"Under the condition that the prophecy stays as it was to be, hidden." She whispered this condition. If Sharah or Kudamon were somehow hurt by what was to come, why, Dianamon didn't know if she could forgive herself. "I know that Azulongmon does not lie, but to depend upon three out of thousands? And the numerous others that have tried and failed?" Doubt trailed her mind, and escaped through her words.
"It's absolutely,
insane. Aquilamon only chuckled and took flight again. "Call me crazy then." He screeched a farewell once he reached the air. It could easily be mistaken for any digimon that dwelled in the forest Dianamon and her soldiers were staying in; but Dianamon and those that saw Aquilamon's entrance knew who did it.
Only Dianamon knew what it meant.
There was a chance this could turn out right after all.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply
