Chapter 23: Fate
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Chapter 23: Fate
The ashes of evil,
The tinders of light,
May still burn,
Through darkness and night.
The Guild is mighty,
And their leader as well,
But even the hardest souls
Have hearts of gold dwell.
~~~~
Four days prior…
Within a small, well-lit shack, a stack of heavy leather books settled onto a shelf, narrowly avoiding the nearby rack of glass tubes. The desk lay clear of debris, newly polished, the early morning light reflecting off it. No dust, no grime, no mess of any sort lay in the research center.
Martre Metagross shuddered and sighed in relief. Rust sprinkled off his body and pattered to the floor, a solitary mess on the newly swept wood.
He held a claw in front of his face, noting how neglected his iron frame was. Orange powder coated everywhere on his body except the silvery ‘X’ across his face and the claws on his legs. Twenty years of researching for Arthus, isolated from all other Pokémon, led to a lack of care toward his own appearance.
“Well,” he thought. A set of wire brushes and a bucket of powdery liquid floated from the floor to him. A sponge rose out from the bucket and wrung itself, then splatted against Martre.
It rubbed across the rust, then the wire brushes began scraping it away. Martre closed his eyes.
“If Gardner’s going to leave me here, I might as well look the part.”
~~~~
Outside the well-kempt command buildings at the southern end of the Iren Canyon, the families of the north end of the Guild—the former civilian district—woke up and carefully began their day. Breloom rushed through the dark alleys to trade for food, Murkrow watching their every move for their Honchkrow boss. Pokémon of diverse species all collaborated with each other, keeping in mind what happens to those that defy the Guild’s rule.
A Sawk tread carefully through the ruins of a once-grand multi-story smithy, stepping over rusted iron tools. The forge imploded on itself and any semblance of a bedroom in the loft had long since disintegrated. Nothing remained here save for ruins.
The Sawk stumbled and scraped against the dusty wood of the stair banister. He grumbled and wiped off his Guild band. “Trias, why are we even here?”
An Alakazam hovered over the debris and gently lowered onto the ground. He stood up and stroked his silvery moustache, his hand brushing the silver spoons hanging from a string around his neck. “Searle, you’re aware that things have been growing worse around the region.”
Searle pointed behind him and flicked his head to the right. “Uh, yeah. The only major city we have under control is Saunte, and—”
“Not that,” Trias interrupted. “Far, far worse things. Have you noticed that there’s been no wild Pokemon for miles? Not even the Vikavolt at night?”
Searle shrugged. “So what? They’ve been goin’ downhill for years.”
“It’s worse. Remember when you took guard duty for Harish two nights ago?”
Searle rubbed his back and groaned. “Do I ever.”
Trias folded his fingers together. “The lights you saw….those were ghosts.”
Searle’s eye grew wide. “Wait…all of those…were ghosts?” He shuddered and shook his head. “There were thousands of them! Where did they come from?”
Trias closed his eyes and lowered his head. “They came from the Ythereal Swamps—and they’re hungry.”
Searle stared up in thought, then blinked. “That’s…that’s not right. They never go out because of all the Life that’s there. Why go now?”
“Because there’s no more Life. It’s going away.”
“Where?”
Trias rubbed his eyes and said, “The Tree of Life.”
Searle stepped back, aghast. “You’ve…you’ve got to be wrong! There’s no way it’s—”
Trias grabbed Searle’s arm, and he fell silent. “I’m not wrong. I’ve felt it coming for a long while, and now it’s here. The Day of Desolation is upon us, and Arceus is preparing Equivos for it.”
Searle stood still, then sat down on a pile of rubble. He threw one aside and leaned his head against his arm. “Great. We’re all gonna die.” He looked up at Trias sadly. “Are you going to tell everyone else?”
Trias folded his arms and turned away. “No.”
Searle came to his feet and threw his arms out. “You’re just going to let them live out their lives like nothing’s happening?”
“Yes,” Trias replied, turning back around. “Because of Arthus. He’s dead set on killing Arceus and taking his place, and if he learned that the Day of Desolation’s nearly here, that’d only serve to hasten his plans. We can’t have that.” He gestured around them. “That’s why I’m telling you here.”
Searle rubbed his chin and sighed. “I guess you’re right, as usual.” He clenched his fist and growled. “But Arthus hasn’t been seen for weeks. It’s not like he’ll find out.”
Trias hovered into the air with his legs crossed and ducked under the ruined entryway. “Whether or not Arthus returns, we must keep my premonition to ourselves. It is something that has been prophesied for generations; the time for change has nearly ended.”
Searle followed him toward the light beyond the dark and disheveled buildings, beyond the dead streets of the north district. “What about everyone here? I mean, won’t there be some Pokemon who survive?”
Trias remained silent until they breached the light of the south district. “Yes. But the prideful that make our ranks will pass.” They watched Tauros cross back and forth, guided by Machoke. Bisharp ordered Pawniard into formation. Cacturne rooted themselves on the canyon wall, keeping a watchful eye for intruders. But none except them noticed the preemptive chill in the air.
Trias walked forward, and Searle followed. Trias only walk forward, yet everyone else seemed to flow around him, unaffected by his presence. Searle kept bumping into shoulders, struggling to keep up. Eventually, they both stood next to the Master’s Tower, where Trias bowed his head and closed his eyes.
He looked up. “The Guildmaster has returned.”
The gates suddenly swung outward, and all the Pokemon scrambled away to avoid being crushed. Gardner passed through the gate and growled, pointing behind him. “Go back to your kennel!” A pack of Houndoom dragging a sled rushed along the path toward a secluded corner of the Guild, barking as they went.
Gardner huffed, then looked over at the Searle and Trias. He came up to them and growled. “Did anything happen while I was gone?”
Trias stared at his scarred eye. “Nothing to report.” Searle shrunk away, holding ah and to cover his face.
Gardner waved them off. “Very well. Go about your business.” The Alakazam and Sawk did so, and the Dusknoir reached for the door to the tower. He stopped. He turned around and studied the masses crossing between the scattered storehouses and dwellings, all circling the Master’s Tower. Meanwhile, to the north, few Pokémon dared to come out into the light to ruin the attitude of the south.
Gardner shook his head. “This isn’t even worth saving.” He hovered to a secluded shed covered with metallic pipes and old lanterns. The curtains were drawn, the only sign of movement within being a loud scraping.
Gardner knocked on the door curtly. The scraping abruptly stopped, and the door swung outward, batting Gardner across his face and pushing him out of the way. A massive, shining Metagross glowered at him, dripping with solution and remnants of rust.
“I swear, if you’re pranking me—” He cut himself short, noticing an irritated Gardner rubbing the side of his head. Martre averted his eyes and muttered, “I…suppose I should have warned you about the door.
“Won’t matter before long.” Gardner entered and shut the door behind him just as the main gate was also closed. He took a brief look around and wiped a finger across the desk in the center of the shack. “I see you’ve cleaned up—finally.” He rubbed his finger and returned his attention to Martre. “You look like a civilized Pokemon instead of a depraved hermit.”
Martre’s eyes flashed. “I hope you’re here to do more than insult me.”
Gardner crossed his arms and hovered around the desk, sitting on the edge of it. “I got to Arthus, and he managed to make Hoopa fix the Seal without releasing him.”
“Wise move. Now we only have an insane murderer to worry about,” Martre nonchalantly said, making a basket of berries hover from the desk toward him. He psychically lifted a berry and brought it to his mouth.
“I was there so he could have Hoopa kill me.”
Martre choked on the berry and coughed, his metal clanking with each heave. He calmed himself and exclaimed, “He used you?”
“Yes,” Gardner grumbled. “He managed to fool him, but he didn’t tell me beforehand. I was practically dead!” He smacked the desk and shouted, “The next time I see him, I’ll rip that precious pendant from his dead body!”
Martre set aside the basket of berries and stomped closer to Gardner. “That’s suicide. You’re lucky he isn’t here, or he might’ve just killed you right there.”
Gardner blinked, sliding off the desk. “Wait, he’s not back? He was only taking care of Cassia and her posse of outcasts. Why in Equivos would he not have come back?”
“Maybe he went directly to Deitae?”
Gardner shook his head, holding his chin. “No, that can’t be it. If he did, we would know; we’d all be dead.” A dull roar came from outside, and Gardner looked out the small window to see all the Guild Pokemon running toward the main gate, calling out for someone.
Gardner and Martre rushed out of the room and saw the main gate thrown open, with everyone gathered around what lay in the center. The Dusknoir hovered over the crowd and bellowed, “What’s this all about?” He saw the focus and his maw hung open. “Oh.”
~~~~
Minutes earlier, in the Faylen jungle, an early morning breeze passed over the remains of the Arceist temple. Trumbeak warbled once more in the surrounding canopies, flapping through the leaves in search of berries and nuts. Emolga flitted alongside them, chittering away.
Far below, deep within the crumbled temple, the many broken bricks and statues created a compact network of narrow tunnels and caverns, each slowly collapsing from the weight above them. No light reached the lowest of the caverns, where the floor of the temple used to be. The air grew staler as dust choked the interior of the mountain.
Within one of the few pockets that remained after the collapse, a still form stirred. Flat on his back, his claws twitched, and his eyes fluttered open. He opened ice-blue eyes and pushed up against the rocks that buried him. He emerged with a cough, then searched the darkness as his vision grew clearer.
Arthus held his head as he rolled onto his back, then started to push himself up with his other hand. He seethed and clutched his leg, still swollen. He looked up, ignoring the blood dripping from the gashes across his body. Dust and pebbles fell from the cracks between the rocks that formed his prison.
A blue light came from his chest, and he held up its source: The Seal of Creation, as perfect as it was when Hoopa had repaired it. “At least I still have—”
He stopped. He dropped the Seal and studied himself. “I’m…I’m back! He’s gone! “He laughed but stopped as he realized something. “Cassia.” He groped in the darkness, crawling around in search for her. He found nothing of her.
Arthus forced himself to stand despite his injury and held the side of his head. “Cassia! Can you hear me?” No response came as his voice echoed.
Arthus snapped his claws, creating a small flame on the end of one. ‘I’m not leaving without her.’ He doubled over and doused the flame, clutching his chest. He soon stood again and studied his hand. “Out of Life energy,” he croaked. He looked down at his injured leg, which looked marginally better than he last remembered. The cavern shook, and Arthus froze. It soon settled, but several larger rocks fell.
Arthus hastened his pace, crawling through the narrow passageways. He managed to get into the next room and saw a dull red glow spread across the floor.
He set a hand on it and gasped as Life rushed into him, healing his cuts and soothing his leg. He forced himself away, retracting his arm. “Grom’s Life energy.” He looked toward another passage, limping toward it. “But Cassia.”
The cavern shook again, and Arthus avoided the falling rocks, leaning against the wall to relieve weight from his leg. “Cassia!” he called. He made it to the next room and stopped.
Underneath a boulder was Cassia, her back facing Arthus.
Arthus ran to her and pushed against the boulder, grunting. It moved slightly but rolled back to its previous position. Arthus’ body glowed red as he pushed again with a roar, throwing off the boulder and slamming it against the far wall. The cavern quaked, and even larger boulders fell.
Arthus held Cassia and supported her with his shoulder. He grit his teeth, the pain in his leg growing as he he pressed on to the exit. He looked up and saw pebbles falling and ceiling loosening above the tunnel.
He rushed through, making it inside just as it was covered. The tunnel itself started to collapse, and a dull roar echoed through what remained of the temple as the higher levels crashed to meet the bottom.
Arthus made it to the mouth of the tunnel and was thrust forward by the force of it collapsing. He and Cassia fell against the floor, more Life energy seeping into them. Arthus grabbed Cassia’s claw and punched into the stone with his other hand. Crimson tendrils emerged and dragged them under the earth just as the remains of the temple buried them.
Arthus instantly felt a pull as he entered the Life network, and saw that the epicenter was a monstrous entry, sapping away the rest of the Life in Equivos and destroying what remained. Even the pathway he traveled through was deteriorating quickly—as was Cassia.
He turned to her and saw a bright white glow fading into the stream. He pulled her closer and embraced her, protecting her Life with his own. They arced toward the surface, the tenacity of the Tree of Life nearly drawing them in.
They emerged at the gate of the Guild, skidding against the coarse soil. Arthus groaned, pushing himself up as his vision blurred. The gate was closed.
He crawled toward it, dragging Cassia with him as he dug into the ground to pull himself closer. His vision grew dimmer and dimmer as he knocked against the door with all his might, then passed out as it was opening. He heard the muffled voices of Pokemon surround him, then silence.
~~~~
Three days later…
Gardner waited outside a beige building, crossing his arms and bowing his head as he leaned against the wall. The other Guild Pokemon continued with their day, attempting to ignore the fact that Arthus Zoroark was in critical condition—along with his adopted daughter.
The door opened and a Comfey drifted out, holding a small piece of paper in its hands. Gardner stood straight and turned to the Comfey. “Well?”
The Comfey studied the paper, her flowers hanging behind her. “Arthus and Cassia will recover—barely. I’m not familiar with how Life energy works outside of Ghost types, but it seems to be helping their healing process.” She rolled up the paper and picked up her flowers again. “Still, Cassia’s suffered a nasty head injury, and Arthus’ leg looked like it was crushed. Ordinarily, I’d keep them here for at least a month, but I have no idea what will happen with Life.” She floated off and said added, “Some Ghosts will be coming by to give them more Life; I’ve noticed that they stop healing as quickly when that glow goes away.
Gardner turned away from the Comfey and toward the door. He looked down at his hand. ‘It’s now or never.’ He clenched his fist and pushed open the door.
In a tiny room coated in beige paint, sunlight leaked through the open window. Beds lined the opposite walls, each with white linen and soft pillows over its frame. On the tables next to them were bowls and platters, ready for their future occupants. On the wall adjacent to them, cabinets loaded with medicine and supplies surrounded the windows, hanging above a counter with a bucket of water and a set of cloths.
Cassia slept in a bed on the far wall, lying on her back with a bandage wrapped around her head, along with others scattered around her body. Arthus was on top the bed next to her, his back turned toward Arthus. His leg was set in a cast, and he appeared still.
Gardner rolled his arm and approached him silently. He slowed his gait, opening his maw. His hands exuded a chilling aura, and they came within inches of Arthus’ back. Gardner could almost feel Arthus’ Life seeping into his body. ‘This is for—’
He stopped. Arthus held Cassia’s limp hand with both of his own. He studied her sorrowfully, his normally-cold eyes having a warmth that Gardner had never seen—until now.
The Dusknoir closed his maw and dissipated the chill in his hands. He clasped them together and stared at the side of the room. He cleared his throat, and Arthus looked up at him.
“Oh,” he said. He sat upright with a moan, letting go of Cassia’s hand and turned to face Gardner. He set his cast down gently, the hardened Ariados silk keeping it strong. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“…Well…I am a ghost,” Gardner replied, forcing a smile. Arthus smiled back, chuckling. Gardner’s smiled disappeared immediately after. ‘He…he never laughs…not like this.’
Arthus wiped his nose and looked over at Cassia. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her to make sure she recovers well. I don’t think she’ll have any memory loss, or anything else really; our control of Life makes us rather durable.” He set his hand over Cassia’s and sighed. “Still…I wish this never happened in the first place.”
Gardner sat on the bed next to Arthus’, unsure of how to react. “How did you get hurt? I don’t recall you getting a scratch since you released me…until now.”
Arthus winced, holding his casted leg. “I managed to trap everyone inside the temple, as planned. Matheus and Lawrence proved more troublesome than expected, and right when I had them, Grom had pulled off his brace.”
Gardner’s maw dropped. “What? That’s suicide!”
Arthus nodded, grimacing. “Indeed. He started chasing me and began destroying the temple. I tripped, and he stepped on my leg. Cassia was in front of me trying to get his brace back on.” He closed his eyes tight. “I thought she died right there. Grom wasn’t in control of himself, sure, but I wouldn’t have hesitated to attack him if I could.”
Gardner pointed at the Seal of Creation, which still hung from Arthus’ neck. “So you didn’t capture Matheus?”
“No.” Arthus held it up, giving it a disapproving look. “And honestly, I want to be done with this entire business. It’s caused nothing but grief for myself and others around me.”
“You…mean capturing Arceus?”
Arthus dropped the Seal carelessly and rested his head on his arm. “No. I’m considering just throwing it into the sea and forgetting about it.”
Gardner narrowed his eye and stood up, towering over Arthus. “You’re not the Arthus I know. You might look and sound like him, but you aren’t as—”
“Callous? Temperamental? Murderous?” Arthus finished, tiredly listing them off.
Gardner blinked, lowering himself. “Well…yes.” He rubbed his arm and stared at the ground. “It’s just…I obeyed you because you were all those things. I always feared for my life whenever something angered you, and even when you were calm, I never knew when you’d come around and nearly pull out my eye.” He sat on the bed again and rubbed his eye. “This is all so…disconcerting. I don’t know what to think.”
Arthus sat a moment longer, then cautiously stood up and smiled. “I’m not sure what to think either.”
Gardner uncovered his eye and cocked his head. “What changed you? Why are you suddenly so…so…” He rolled his eye and spat, “Nice? You don’t even care about the Seal anymore.”
Arthus gently paced up the hallway, holding his hands behind his back. “This is the real me. The Arthus you’ve known was my…shadow, so to speak. He’s all my worst qualities but magnified.” He tapped his head and said, “He must’ve been driven back when the temple landed on me. I’ve no idea if he’s truly gone, but at least my mind is free of him for the time being.”
“And how did this…shadow, come to be in the first place?”
Arthus forced a smile, turning away. “That is a story I’m not ready to tell yet.”
Cassia took a larger breath, shifting slightly. Arthus gestured to Gardner, then to the door. “Would you give me and Cassia some privacy? I have some things to clear up between us.”
Gardner blinked and shook his head briefly. “Er…yes, Arthus, sir.” He stood upright and began toward the door.
Arthus grabbed Gardner’s shoulder, causing him to turn. “Please, call me Arty.”
Gardner only stared at him, wide-eyed. “Yes…Arty.” He broke away from Arthus’ grip and rushed out of the room. Arthus only shook his head, sitting back in his bed and holding his hands.
Gardner burst out of the double doors and panted, holding his head. “I must be going mad—a world where Arthus isn’t waiting to kill someone? Or even use the Seal?” He grabbed his head and groaned. “This place must be getting to me. I have to get out of here.”
He saw Martre walking toward the medical center with a pair of Lampent hovering behind him. Gardner came between them and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Giving Arthus and Cassia more Life energy. What’s got you so wound up?” Martre asked.
Gardner eyed the doors, then looked back at Martre. “I’m warning you now: Arthus isn’t quite right in the head.” Martre gave him a cold look. Gardner shrugged and said, “Alright, more so than usual. He’s suddenly treating others nicely and insisting on being called, ‘Arty’. He doesn’t even want to use the Seal anymore.”
Martre stepped back, and the Lampent looked at each other with confused expressions. The Metagross clamped his teeth, then said, “He did mention having the temple collapse on him. Maybe he’s suffered a head injury?”
Gardner humphed, moving away. “Don’t know, don’t care. I’m headed off to Saunte to deal with those idiot captains, Valder and Derak—and to clear my head. Arthus was just—” He shuddered. “Bizarre.” He hovered to the far side of the Guild, where the Houndoom had previously brought his sled into storage.
Martre’s insides whirred for a moment as he considered the implications of Gardner’s claim. “I must evaluate him to see if he is…well, any worse than he was before.” He gingerly stepped inside, and the Lampent followed, carrying more stores of Life for the Zoroark to consume.
~~~~
A Zoroark stood in blackness, still. No sound or sight crossed its path for what felt like hours. A black Golurk glowing with Life appeared, standing at attention.
“Grom?” the Zoroark asked.
Grom didn’t hear. The brace over his chest loosened and fell off, dropping into the black void below. The crack in his chest surged, and he crouched, leaning toward the Zoroark.
He bounded forward, making no sound except a high-pitched whine. The Zoroark attempted to jump out of the way, but Grom diverted his path to meet it. The Golurk grabbed the Zoroark, his victim fully expecting to die from the oncoming explosion. The Golurk lowered his head and whispered five words:
“I’ll always be with you.”
The blackness was consumed by white, and the Zoroark awoke.
~~~~
Cassia stirred under her covers. A bandage wrapped around her head, chest, and limbs, each fresh and clean. Her fur was shiny and smooth, brushed free of imperfection.
She sat upright and gasped opening her eyes. She breathed heavily, looking around the room in confusion. “W-Where am I?” She turned to the table and noticed two brass bolts sitting next to a small bowl of Oran berries.
She picked up one of the bolts. “…Grom…” Her eyes widened. “Lawrence?” she called. “Matheus?”
“They aren’t here.”
She froze.
“They escaped before the temple collapsed. I have no idea where they went after that.”
She knew that voice.
“We were lucky to get out ourselves. If it weren’t for Grom—”He stopped himself. “I’m over here, just so you know.” Cassia slowly turned to face the other Zoroark. Bandages were wrapped around his chest and arms, and a sizable cast was wrapped around his leg. his fur was disheveled, and around his neck was a simple golden pendant glowing with pure blue light. “Arthus?”
He smiled. “It looks like your memory’s intact despite the nasty hit you took.” He stood up shakily, rubbing his arm. “You would’ve been asleep for weeks if it weren’t for the Life that Martre brought it. It’s only been three days, and you’re nearly right as rain.” He winced and sat down on the bed again. “Of course, I suffered more. But we’ll both be right as rain within a few days.” He chuckled. “Oh, I forgot.” He took an Oran berry from the bowl and held it out to her.
“Welcome home, Cassia.”
The ashes of evil,
The tinders of light,
May still burn,
Through darkness and night.
The Guild is mighty,
And their leader as well,
But even the hardest souls
Have hearts of gold dwell.
~~~~
Four days prior…
Within a small, well-lit shack, a stack of heavy leather books settled onto a shelf, narrowly avoiding the nearby rack of glass tubes. The desk lay clear of debris, newly polished, the early morning light reflecting off it. No dust, no grime, no mess of any sort lay in the research center.
Martre Metagross shuddered and sighed in relief. Rust sprinkled off his body and pattered to the floor, a solitary mess on the newly swept wood.
He held a claw in front of his face, noting how neglected his iron frame was. Orange powder coated everywhere on his body except the silvery ‘X’ across his face and the claws on his legs. Twenty years of researching for Arthus, isolated from all other Pokémon, led to a lack of care toward his own appearance.
“Well,” he thought. A set of wire brushes and a bucket of powdery liquid floated from the floor to him. A sponge rose out from the bucket and wrung itself, then splatted against Martre.
It rubbed across the rust, then the wire brushes began scraping it away. Martre closed his eyes.
“If Gardner’s going to leave me here, I might as well look the part.”
~~~~
Outside the well-kempt command buildings at the southern end of the Iren Canyon, the families of the north end of the Guild—the former civilian district—woke up and carefully began their day. Breloom rushed through the dark alleys to trade for food, Murkrow watching their every move for their Honchkrow boss. Pokémon of diverse species all collaborated with each other, keeping in mind what happens to those that defy the Guild’s rule.
A Sawk tread carefully through the ruins of a once-grand multi-story smithy, stepping over rusted iron tools. The forge imploded on itself and any semblance of a bedroom in the loft had long since disintegrated. Nothing remained here save for ruins.
The Sawk stumbled and scraped against the dusty wood of the stair banister. He grumbled and wiped off his Guild band. “Trias, why are we even here?”
An Alakazam hovered over the debris and gently lowered onto the ground. He stood up and stroked his silvery moustache, his hand brushing the silver spoons hanging from a string around his neck. “Searle, you’re aware that things have been growing worse around the region.”
Searle pointed behind him and flicked his head to the right. “Uh, yeah. The only major city we have under control is Saunte, and—”
“Not that,” Trias interrupted. “Far, far worse things. Have you noticed that there’s been no wild Pokemon for miles? Not even the Vikavolt at night?”
Searle shrugged. “So what? They’ve been goin’ downhill for years.”
“It’s worse. Remember when you took guard duty for Harish two nights ago?”
Searle rubbed his back and groaned. “Do I ever.”
Trias folded his fingers together. “The lights you saw….those were ghosts.”
Searle’s eye grew wide. “Wait…all of those…were ghosts?” He shuddered and shook his head. “There were thousands of them! Where did they come from?”
Trias closed his eyes and lowered his head. “They came from the Ythereal Swamps—and they’re hungry.”
Searle stared up in thought, then blinked. “That’s…that’s not right. They never go out because of all the Life that’s there. Why go now?”
“Because there’s no more Life. It’s going away.”
“Where?”
Trias rubbed his eyes and said, “The Tree of Life.”
Searle stepped back, aghast. “You’ve…you’ve got to be wrong! There’s no way it’s—”
Trias grabbed Searle’s arm, and he fell silent. “I’m not wrong. I’ve felt it coming for a long while, and now it’s here. The Day of Desolation is upon us, and Arceus is preparing Equivos for it.”
Searle stood still, then sat down on a pile of rubble. He threw one aside and leaned his head against his arm. “Great. We’re all gonna die.” He looked up at Trias sadly. “Are you going to tell everyone else?”
Trias folded his arms and turned away. “No.”
Searle came to his feet and threw his arms out. “You’re just going to let them live out their lives like nothing’s happening?”
“Yes,” Trias replied, turning back around. “Because of Arthus. He’s dead set on killing Arceus and taking his place, and if he learned that the Day of Desolation’s nearly here, that’d only serve to hasten his plans. We can’t have that.” He gestured around them. “That’s why I’m telling you here.”
Searle rubbed his chin and sighed. “I guess you’re right, as usual.” He clenched his fist and growled. “But Arthus hasn’t been seen for weeks. It’s not like he’ll find out.”
Trias hovered into the air with his legs crossed and ducked under the ruined entryway. “Whether or not Arthus returns, we must keep my premonition to ourselves. It is something that has been prophesied for generations; the time for change has nearly ended.”
Searle followed him toward the light beyond the dark and disheveled buildings, beyond the dead streets of the north district. “What about everyone here? I mean, won’t there be some Pokemon who survive?”
Trias remained silent until they breached the light of the south district. “Yes. But the prideful that make our ranks will pass.” They watched Tauros cross back and forth, guided by Machoke. Bisharp ordered Pawniard into formation. Cacturne rooted themselves on the canyon wall, keeping a watchful eye for intruders. But none except them noticed the preemptive chill in the air.
Trias walked forward, and Searle followed. Trias only walk forward, yet everyone else seemed to flow around him, unaffected by his presence. Searle kept bumping into shoulders, struggling to keep up. Eventually, they both stood next to the Master’s Tower, where Trias bowed his head and closed his eyes.
He looked up. “The Guildmaster has returned.”
The gates suddenly swung outward, and all the Pokemon scrambled away to avoid being crushed. Gardner passed through the gate and growled, pointing behind him. “Go back to your kennel!” A pack of Houndoom dragging a sled rushed along the path toward a secluded corner of the Guild, barking as they went.
Gardner huffed, then looked over at the Searle and Trias. He came up to them and growled. “Did anything happen while I was gone?”
Trias stared at his scarred eye. “Nothing to report.” Searle shrunk away, holding ah and to cover his face.
Gardner waved them off. “Very well. Go about your business.” The Alakazam and Sawk did so, and the Dusknoir reached for the door to the tower. He stopped. He turned around and studied the masses crossing between the scattered storehouses and dwellings, all circling the Master’s Tower. Meanwhile, to the north, few Pokémon dared to come out into the light to ruin the attitude of the south.
Gardner shook his head. “This isn’t even worth saving.” He hovered to a secluded shed covered with metallic pipes and old lanterns. The curtains were drawn, the only sign of movement within being a loud scraping.
Gardner knocked on the door curtly. The scraping abruptly stopped, and the door swung outward, batting Gardner across his face and pushing him out of the way. A massive, shining Metagross glowered at him, dripping with solution and remnants of rust.
“I swear, if you’re pranking me—” He cut himself short, noticing an irritated Gardner rubbing the side of his head. Martre averted his eyes and muttered, “I…suppose I should have warned you about the door.
“Won’t matter before long.” Gardner entered and shut the door behind him just as the main gate was also closed. He took a brief look around and wiped a finger across the desk in the center of the shack. “I see you’ve cleaned up—finally.” He rubbed his finger and returned his attention to Martre. “You look like a civilized Pokemon instead of a depraved hermit.”
Martre’s eyes flashed. “I hope you’re here to do more than insult me.”
Gardner crossed his arms and hovered around the desk, sitting on the edge of it. “I got to Arthus, and he managed to make Hoopa fix the Seal without releasing him.”
“Wise move. Now we only have an insane murderer to worry about,” Martre nonchalantly said, making a basket of berries hover from the desk toward him. He psychically lifted a berry and brought it to his mouth.
“I was there so he could have Hoopa kill me.”
Martre choked on the berry and coughed, his metal clanking with each heave. He calmed himself and exclaimed, “He used you?”
“Yes,” Gardner grumbled. “He managed to fool him, but he didn’t tell me beforehand. I was practically dead!” He smacked the desk and shouted, “The next time I see him, I’ll rip that precious pendant from his dead body!”
Martre set aside the basket of berries and stomped closer to Gardner. “That’s suicide. You’re lucky he isn’t here, or he might’ve just killed you right there.”
Gardner blinked, sliding off the desk. “Wait, he’s not back? He was only taking care of Cassia and her posse of outcasts. Why in Equivos would he not have come back?”
“Maybe he went directly to Deitae?”
Gardner shook his head, holding his chin. “No, that can’t be it. If he did, we would know; we’d all be dead.” A dull roar came from outside, and Gardner looked out the small window to see all the Guild Pokemon running toward the main gate, calling out for someone.
Gardner and Martre rushed out of the room and saw the main gate thrown open, with everyone gathered around what lay in the center. The Dusknoir hovered over the crowd and bellowed, “What’s this all about?” He saw the focus and his maw hung open. “Oh.”
~~~~
Minutes earlier, in the Faylen jungle, an early morning breeze passed over the remains of the Arceist temple. Trumbeak warbled once more in the surrounding canopies, flapping through the leaves in search of berries and nuts. Emolga flitted alongside them, chittering away.
Far below, deep within the crumbled temple, the many broken bricks and statues created a compact network of narrow tunnels and caverns, each slowly collapsing from the weight above them. No light reached the lowest of the caverns, where the floor of the temple used to be. The air grew staler as dust choked the interior of the mountain.
Within one of the few pockets that remained after the collapse, a still form stirred. Flat on his back, his claws twitched, and his eyes fluttered open. He opened ice-blue eyes and pushed up against the rocks that buried him. He emerged with a cough, then searched the darkness as his vision grew clearer.
Arthus held his head as he rolled onto his back, then started to push himself up with his other hand. He seethed and clutched his leg, still swollen. He looked up, ignoring the blood dripping from the gashes across his body. Dust and pebbles fell from the cracks between the rocks that formed his prison.
A blue light came from his chest, and he held up its source: The Seal of Creation, as perfect as it was when Hoopa had repaired it. “At least I still have—”
He stopped. He dropped the Seal and studied himself. “I’m…I’m back! He’s gone! “He laughed but stopped as he realized something. “Cassia.” He groped in the darkness, crawling around in search for her. He found nothing of her.
Arthus forced himself to stand despite his injury and held the side of his head. “Cassia! Can you hear me?” No response came as his voice echoed.
Arthus snapped his claws, creating a small flame on the end of one. ‘I’m not leaving without her.’ He doubled over and doused the flame, clutching his chest. He soon stood again and studied his hand. “Out of Life energy,” he croaked. He looked down at his injured leg, which looked marginally better than he last remembered. The cavern shook, and Arthus froze. It soon settled, but several larger rocks fell.
Arthus hastened his pace, crawling through the narrow passageways. He managed to get into the next room and saw a dull red glow spread across the floor.
He set a hand on it and gasped as Life rushed into him, healing his cuts and soothing his leg. He forced himself away, retracting his arm. “Grom’s Life energy.” He looked toward another passage, limping toward it. “But Cassia.”
The cavern shook again, and Arthus avoided the falling rocks, leaning against the wall to relieve weight from his leg. “Cassia!” he called. He made it to the next room and stopped.
Underneath a boulder was Cassia, her back facing Arthus.
Arthus ran to her and pushed against the boulder, grunting. It moved slightly but rolled back to its previous position. Arthus’ body glowed red as he pushed again with a roar, throwing off the boulder and slamming it against the far wall. The cavern quaked, and even larger boulders fell.
Arthus held Cassia and supported her with his shoulder. He grit his teeth, the pain in his leg growing as he he pressed on to the exit. He looked up and saw pebbles falling and ceiling loosening above the tunnel.
He rushed through, making it inside just as it was covered. The tunnel itself started to collapse, and a dull roar echoed through what remained of the temple as the higher levels crashed to meet the bottom.
Arthus made it to the mouth of the tunnel and was thrust forward by the force of it collapsing. He and Cassia fell against the floor, more Life energy seeping into them. Arthus grabbed Cassia’s claw and punched into the stone with his other hand. Crimson tendrils emerged and dragged them under the earth just as the remains of the temple buried them.
Arthus instantly felt a pull as he entered the Life network, and saw that the epicenter was a monstrous entry, sapping away the rest of the Life in Equivos and destroying what remained. Even the pathway he traveled through was deteriorating quickly—as was Cassia.
He turned to her and saw a bright white glow fading into the stream. He pulled her closer and embraced her, protecting her Life with his own. They arced toward the surface, the tenacity of the Tree of Life nearly drawing them in.
They emerged at the gate of the Guild, skidding against the coarse soil. Arthus groaned, pushing himself up as his vision blurred. The gate was closed.
He crawled toward it, dragging Cassia with him as he dug into the ground to pull himself closer. His vision grew dimmer and dimmer as he knocked against the door with all his might, then passed out as it was opening. He heard the muffled voices of Pokemon surround him, then silence.
~~~~
Three days later…
Gardner waited outside a beige building, crossing his arms and bowing his head as he leaned against the wall. The other Guild Pokemon continued with their day, attempting to ignore the fact that Arthus Zoroark was in critical condition—along with his adopted daughter.
The door opened and a Comfey drifted out, holding a small piece of paper in its hands. Gardner stood straight and turned to the Comfey. “Well?”
The Comfey studied the paper, her flowers hanging behind her. “Arthus and Cassia will recover—barely. I’m not familiar with how Life energy works outside of Ghost types, but it seems to be helping their healing process.” She rolled up the paper and picked up her flowers again. “Still, Cassia’s suffered a nasty head injury, and Arthus’ leg looked like it was crushed. Ordinarily, I’d keep them here for at least a month, but I have no idea what will happen with Life.” She floated off and said added, “Some Ghosts will be coming by to give them more Life; I’ve noticed that they stop healing as quickly when that glow goes away.
Gardner turned away from the Comfey and toward the door. He looked down at his hand. ‘It’s now or never.’ He clenched his fist and pushed open the door.
In a tiny room coated in beige paint, sunlight leaked through the open window. Beds lined the opposite walls, each with white linen and soft pillows over its frame. On the tables next to them were bowls and platters, ready for their future occupants. On the wall adjacent to them, cabinets loaded with medicine and supplies surrounded the windows, hanging above a counter with a bucket of water and a set of cloths.
Cassia slept in a bed on the far wall, lying on her back with a bandage wrapped around her head, along with others scattered around her body. Arthus was on top the bed next to her, his back turned toward Arthus. His leg was set in a cast, and he appeared still.
Gardner rolled his arm and approached him silently. He slowed his gait, opening his maw. His hands exuded a chilling aura, and they came within inches of Arthus’ back. Gardner could almost feel Arthus’ Life seeping into his body. ‘This is for—’
He stopped. Arthus held Cassia’s limp hand with both of his own. He studied her sorrowfully, his normally-cold eyes having a warmth that Gardner had never seen—until now.
The Dusknoir closed his maw and dissipated the chill in his hands. He clasped them together and stared at the side of the room. He cleared his throat, and Arthus looked up at him.
“Oh,” he said. He sat upright with a moan, letting go of Cassia’s hand and turned to face Gardner. He set his cast down gently, the hardened Ariados silk keeping it strong. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“…Well…I am a ghost,” Gardner replied, forcing a smile. Arthus smiled back, chuckling. Gardner’s smiled disappeared immediately after. ‘He…he never laughs…not like this.’
Arthus wiped his nose and looked over at Cassia. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her to make sure she recovers well. I don’t think she’ll have any memory loss, or anything else really; our control of Life makes us rather durable.” He set his hand over Cassia’s and sighed. “Still…I wish this never happened in the first place.”
Gardner sat on the bed next to Arthus’, unsure of how to react. “How did you get hurt? I don’t recall you getting a scratch since you released me…until now.”
Arthus winced, holding his casted leg. “I managed to trap everyone inside the temple, as planned. Matheus and Lawrence proved more troublesome than expected, and right when I had them, Grom had pulled off his brace.”
Gardner’s maw dropped. “What? That’s suicide!”
Arthus nodded, grimacing. “Indeed. He started chasing me and began destroying the temple. I tripped, and he stepped on my leg. Cassia was in front of me trying to get his brace back on.” He closed his eyes tight. “I thought she died right there. Grom wasn’t in control of himself, sure, but I wouldn’t have hesitated to attack him if I could.”
Gardner pointed at the Seal of Creation, which still hung from Arthus’ neck. “So you didn’t capture Matheus?”
“No.” Arthus held it up, giving it a disapproving look. “And honestly, I want to be done with this entire business. It’s caused nothing but grief for myself and others around me.”
“You…mean capturing Arceus?”
Arthus dropped the Seal carelessly and rested his head on his arm. “No. I’m considering just throwing it into the sea and forgetting about it.”
Gardner narrowed his eye and stood up, towering over Arthus. “You’re not the Arthus I know. You might look and sound like him, but you aren’t as—”
“Callous? Temperamental? Murderous?” Arthus finished, tiredly listing them off.
Gardner blinked, lowering himself. “Well…yes.” He rubbed his arm and stared at the ground. “It’s just…I obeyed you because you were all those things. I always feared for my life whenever something angered you, and even when you were calm, I never knew when you’d come around and nearly pull out my eye.” He sat on the bed again and rubbed his eye. “This is all so…disconcerting. I don’t know what to think.”
Arthus sat a moment longer, then cautiously stood up and smiled. “I’m not sure what to think either.”
Gardner uncovered his eye and cocked his head. “What changed you? Why are you suddenly so…so…” He rolled his eye and spat, “Nice? You don’t even care about the Seal anymore.”
Arthus gently paced up the hallway, holding his hands behind his back. “This is the real me. The Arthus you’ve known was my…shadow, so to speak. He’s all my worst qualities but magnified.” He tapped his head and said, “He must’ve been driven back when the temple landed on me. I’ve no idea if he’s truly gone, but at least my mind is free of him for the time being.”
“And how did this…shadow, come to be in the first place?”
Arthus forced a smile, turning away. “That is a story I’m not ready to tell yet.”
Cassia took a larger breath, shifting slightly. Arthus gestured to Gardner, then to the door. “Would you give me and Cassia some privacy? I have some things to clear up between us.”
Gardner blinked and shook his head briefly. “Er…yes, Arthus, sir.” He stood upright and began toward the door.
Arthus grabbed Gardner’s shoulder, causing him to turn. “Please, call me Arty.”
Gardner only stared at him, wide-eyed. “Yes…Arty.” He broke away from Arthus’ grip and rushed out of the room. Arthus only shook his head, sitting back in his bed and holding his hands.
Gardner burst out of the double doors and panted, holding his head. “I must be going mad—a world where Arthus isn’t waiting to kill someone? Or even use the Seal?” He grabbed his head and groaned. “This place must be getting to me. I have to get out of here.”
He saw Martre walking toward the medical center with a pair of Lampent hovering behind him. Gardner came between them and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Giving Arthus and Cassia more Life energy. What’s got you so wound up?” Martre asked.
Gardner eyed the doors, then looked back at Martre. “I’m warning you now: Arthus isn’t quite right in the head.” Martre gave him a cold look. Gardner shrugged and said, “Alright, more so than usual. He’s suddenly treating others nicely and insisting on being called, ‘Arty’. He doesn’t even want to use the Seal anymore.”
Martre stepped back, and the Lampent looked at each other with confused expressions. The Metagross clamped his teeth, then said, “He did mention having the temple collapse on him. Maybe he’s suffered a head injury?”
Gardner humphed, moving away. “Don’t know, don’t care. I’m headed off to Saunte to deal with those idiot captains, Valder and Derak—and to clear my head. Arthus was just—” He shuddered. “Bizarre.” He hovered to the far side of the Guild, where the Houndoom had previously brought his sled into storage.
Martre’s insides whirred for a moment as he considered the implications of Gardner’s claim. “I must evaluate him to see if he is…well, any worse than he was before.” He gingerly stepped inside, and the Lampent followed, carrying more stores of Life for the Zoroark to consume.
~~~~
A Zoroark stood in blackness, still. No sound or sight crossed its path for what felt like hours. A black Golurk glowing with Life appeared, standing at attention.
“Grom?” the Zoroark asked.
Grom didn’t hear. The brace over his chest loosened and fell off, dropping into the black void below. The crack in his chest surged, and he crouched, leaning toward the Zoroark.
He bounded forward, making no sound except a high-pitched whine. The Zoroark attempted to jump out of the way, but Grom diverted his path to meet it. The Golurk grabbed the Zoroark, his victim fully expecting to die from the oncoming explosion. The Golurk lowered his head and whispered five words:
“I’ll always be with you.”
The blackness was consumed by white, and the Zoroark awoke.
~~~~
Cassia stirred under her covers. A bandage wrapped around her head, chest, and limbs, each fresh and clean. Her fur was shiny and smooth, brushed free of imperfection.
She sat upright and gasped opening her eyes. She breathed heavily, looking around the room in confusion. “W-Where am I?” She turned to the table and noticed two brass bolts sitting next to a small bowl of Oran berries.
She picked up one of the bolts. “…Grom…” Her eyes widened. “Lawrence?” she called. “Matheus?”
“They aren’t here.”
She froze.
“They escaped before the temple collapsed. I have no idea where they went after that.”
She knew that voice.
“We were lucky to get out ourselves. If it weren’t for Grom—”He stopped himself. “I’m over here, just so you know.” Cassia slowly turned to face the other Zoroark. Bandages were wrapped around his chest and arms, and a sizable cast was wrapped around his leg. his fur was disheveled, and around his neck was a simple golden pendant glowing with pure blue light. “Arthus?”
He smiled. “It looks like your memory’s intact despite the nasty hit you took.” He stood up shakily, rubbing his arm. “You would’ve been asleep for weeks if it weren’t for the Life that Martre brought it. It’s only been three days, and you’re nearly right as rain.” He winced and sat down on the bed again. “Of course, I suffered more. But we’ll both be right as rain within a few days.” He chuckled. “Oh, I forgot.” He took an Oran berry from the bowl and held it out to her.
“Welcome home, Cassia.”
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