Thread: Three

*sai* One more yet-to-be-finished fic before hitting the hay. ~,~;

Chapter Zero—Darkness Flows Through Night

In the dark of night, two figures stood in a field, under a moon with a certain bloodlusty sheen that lent the entire scene with the feel of evil. The air hung dense in its place, the night air unmoving and humid. This fazed the first a bit, but seemed not to bother the other.

The first was a pachyderm by species, but not by spirit. The sheer size of its opponent did not frighten it. Or so it seemed.

This opponent was a dark one, indeed, its eyes the only light from its otherwise shadow of a form. It stood tall, around seven feet, and wore a cloak that looked as though it were made with the tapestry of night. Its narrow, golden eyes glowed with an evil flame, lending an air to its countenance that struck fear in those who spectated such a creature. And yet still the elephant stood its ground.

"Phantill, Rollout!" a third exclaimed from a short distance. At once the elephant rolled up into a tight wheel, and, using the treads along its back and snout, it raced off at an insane speed o'er the ground at its opponent.

The figure did not move, but instead took the full force of the attack. The cloth went flying, landing in a heap a few feet away.

Rounding back in a single, wide turn, the Donphan called Phantill came up to inspect its opponent's condition after the attack. There was but the cloak that was left.

A chill went down Phantill's spine at seeing that its opponent was gone. The thought that it had obliterated it ran through its mind once, but upon remembering those eyes....

The third figure, Phantill's trainer, who was a boy by the name of Tarrœl, broke a cold sweat at seeing what he saw, his mouth dropping open to speak, but his terror shattered the words, wiping them from his tongue before they could escape his lips.

Phantill squealed its elephantine cry of fear when it felt a hot, steamy breath rushing down upon it. When it gained the courage to look up, it found a shadow looming o'er it, with eyes that were a deep, evil gold. Again the pachyderm squealed, racing away from the creature that had somehow survived the hit.

"G—g—gg—et away from my Donphan, you beast!" Tarrœl squeaked, rushing up behind the shade that chased after Phantill. It turned and looked down upon him with absolute hatred in its glare. Again Tarrœl was paralysed.

And he witnessed the demise of his beloved Pokémon; the shade feasted on the Donphan. There hadn't been much of a fight—a single slice from the beast's claws had felled it. When nothing but scraps remained, the creature turned again to Tarrœl.

"I don't particularly enjoy being called a beast," it snarled, its voice that of a youthful woman.

When the youth of about twelve years of age regained his senses, he tore away from the place, leaving only the carcass of the fallen Phantill that could speak of the incident's true nature.

~=~=~=~

There was a tavern in the town of Blackthorn. It was sort of run down, and the lights were dim, lending a wholely depressing atmosphere to the place.

There sat a boy in his late teens in the farthest corner, hovering distantly o'er a cup of hot tea. His pale gold hair hung down, concealing his face. He arrayed in many shades tan.

A man in all white came to sit across the table from him with a glass of liquor.

"What ails ye, son?" he mused in a dark, gruff voice.

The youth picked his head up, the light from the overhead lamp spilling onto his face, revealing him to be about seventeen. His eyes shone crystal blue, as pallid as his hair. But his flesh was so ghostly pale that the man could scarcely keep from staring at him in disbelief that he could possibly be anything but made of plaster.

"It's been five years today..." he replied, melancholy. The bags under his eyes showed all the more as he said this.

"Since what?"

"Five years have passed since she killed my Pokémon...."

This perplexed and frightened the man. Fearful of the youth's response, he quaivered to inquire, "W—who?"

"The beast. She devoured my Donphan as if he were a mere head of cattle." A tear came to his eye and fell down his cheek. "Phantill was my best Pokémon, you know? Since then, I haven't lifted so much as a finger to training."

"C—could ye describe this creacher te meh?"

"Her eyes were a dark, evil gold." He shivered at remembering. "She seemed to be catlike in the way she moved—so agile! And her voice... she sounded like a siren of the seas!"

At hearing this, the man was beside himself both with guilt and with despair. He could not choose whether to tell the boy what he knew. But he was eager to hear the man's response, and, hesitantly, he indulged his information to him.

"They call her... Three."

"Three?" Tarrœl inquired, his dolourous spirits slightly piqued.

"Yes," the man replied. "She sold her soul to the Umbreon to be what she is today." The boy's eyes widened. "She possesses the body of malice, and the power of pure evil. Her heart went with her spirit, and thus nothing concerns her save what's hers."

"I cannot believe that such a human exists!"

"Ah, but you forget," he chided. "She isn't human."

After a moment of silence, the boy wondered, "You have yet to tell me your name."

"Some call me Korun," he mumbled, stroking his smooth chin with his long, wiry fingers.

"Then, Korun, sir, I am grateful that you have told me of my foe. I must tell you that I shall always continue to strive to destroy her."

"Ah, you'll never be able to lay a finger on that beast," Korun muttered, slightly amused by the youth.

This enfuriated the boy. "You do know that you're a rude one to say such a thing to me, do you not? You seem to have come over to me only to aggravate me!"

"I came over to you because I needed companionship for a few fleeting moments. I am but a lonely, old man. I apologise for upsetting you, boy, but I tell you the truth. Three has never been defeated by any mere mortal."

"Then I shall seek aid from the gods!" Tarrœl exclaimed, grasping at straws to appease the old man's insatiable thirst for extinguishing his hopes.

"You truly believe the gods will help one lowly mortal seek vengeance upon a being which is protected by the Umbreon? I should think not."

"I can pray, can I not?"

"I suppose you can, but it won't do you much good."

After a moment, a thought crept through Tarrœl's mind that made his hair stand on end, a plan.

"You said that Three has never been defeated by any mere mortal, correct, old man?"

Though he nodded in assent, Korun had no idea at what he hinted.

"You do not seem to understand my thoughts. I now see a clear way for I myself to defeat Three."

"And what would that be?" Korun was not sold.

"The eternal rival to the Umbreon are the Espeon, correct?"

Again a nod, this time more cognative than before. The elderly man then saw. "Boy, you are stark mad!" he upstarted. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?!"

Grinning in a delirium, the youth leapt to his feet, slapping his hands down upon the table with a loud thud as he glared insanely at Korun.

"But of course I do, old Korun! Only an Espeon can defeat an Umbreon!"

With this, Tarrœl threw a flurry of silver on the table for payment for his drink then ran out the door of the tavern in a flash.

"That boy is insane, he is," Korun mumbled aside, staring at the door as it closed shut.

*looks around*

*takes a drink*

*reads again*

I'm sorry, but that didn't make much sense...you know I like your work, but that one just...lost me.

Kurai: Maybe if I were to post the second chapter, it'd make a bit more sense, but, as it stands, I myself'm not sure whether it makes sense.... oO;

Goth Keiji: You never make any sense, Kawaii-chan. o_u;

Kurai: ....
NEVAR CALL ME THAT AGAIN! >_<;;; *punt*

Chapter One—Brighter Light, Darker Shadow

Tarroel sped with the celerity of Hitmonlee, his legs inured to the extra force upon his legs due to heightened speeds. Though the boy seemed to merely be sprinting in a frenzy, he knew precisely to where he ran. Over land, over water, through copse, through darkness, he was unhindered in his journey.

Two or three hours passed before the boy reached his destination—just out of Blackthorn, up in the mountains to the North. He stood before the mouth of a cave, a cave which humans gave the name 'Serenity Grotto,' but is now more commonly known as the 'Dragon's Den.' He spoke but a single phrase to himself of his present situation: "The drake of legends awaits my plea."

Then he entered the darkness, allowing the shadows to engulf his frail, young body, his very soul chilled by the spirits that lie in wait for him.

~=~=~=~=~

Walking cautiously through the path of the cave, Tarroel mumbled to himself, "I hadn't imagined that it would be so dark here...." With this, he took instinctively in his hand a Pokéball, and held it out before him. "Come, Miurgul, use your Ember so that I might be capable of finding my way."

In a quick flash of light, one may testify that thy saw a tan and black, mouselike creature take to Tarroel's shoulder. The Cyndaquil named Miurgul soon lit its trainer's path.

"I am sorry for my abandoning you, my good friend," the boy apologised as the pair walked along. "It was far from my intentions to have left my closest companions as far from me as possible." The rodent purred to offer its trainer that he had accepted the apology. The boy smiled, patting Miurgul on the head. "I am glad that you forgive me. Now we are able to continue with far more pressing matters, such as how you, Fernell, and Raigesh shall get along without your trainer for a time."

This perplexed and worried the Cyndaquil. "Kwilll..." it wooed, upset.

"You will be all right without me. It will only be for just a small time." The mouse gave him such a look to inquire of him the purpose of this departure from his Pokémon. "Miurgul, I have duties higher than just the mere mortal aspiration to be a Pokémon trainer. True, it has spiritual qualities, but it is not my fate. No. I am to be something more. I know this now."

"Cynda cyndashkwll," Miurgul murmured inquizzically.

Tarroel took this to mean that the Cyndaquil did not understand, and he replied, "My dear friend, there is such a goddess called Destiny. She presides over the lives of mortal beings like you and me, setting before us the paths which we are to take. Now, I am to follow the course that Destiny lay down for me. I am to visit Hecate."

"Cynda?"

The boy grimaced a little. "Yes, Hecate. It is she with whom I must speak, for she is the only one that can help me now."

~=~=~=~

After a while the boy and his Pokémon came to the very heart of Serenity Grotto. There shone down from the heavens a light that bathed the glittering rock face of the cavern, a light that made the scene feel as though a million tiny stars were present. The crescent moon made itself known in the water's reflection.

Tarroel turned Miurgul loose with the other two Pokéballs from his waist, then continued on alone. He walked to the water's edge and took a deep breath before wading into the crystalline pool.

Quite some time passed before Tarroel found himself at the centre of the grotto. A small sandbar was there, and he climbed up to stand upon it. Then he fell on his knees in prayer.

He chanted but one phrase: "Oh Hecate, dark goddess of the skies, I implore that you grant me passage to the Twilight Way."

"I shall do so for you, mortal, only if you first do something for me."

Tarroel whirled around to find his gaze fall upon a hallowed being. Her form was half dragon and half beautiful woman. Her hair streamed in argentine rivers about her form, and her crimson eyes were aflame with a rebellious fire all their own; her form was shapely and wonderfully curved, and, though she was the most stunning creature upon which Tarroel had ever laid his eyes, he also felt an immense strength from her very aura.

"Oh my goddess Hecate," he whispered, falling to his knees and bowing down before her. "What must I do for you?"

"I wish for you to prove the worth of your journey to me. Bring me to believe that it is in my best interests that I do this for you."

"Hecate, I feel it to be my destiny to bring death to Three."

The Dragonair goddess smirked. "You amuse me, human. You believe that one young boy can destroy the single being that rivals my strength?"

"I intend to fight her darkness with the light of the Espeon."

"So this is the truth to your journey," Hecate smiled, eyes narrowed upon the boy. "You are wise beyond your years. What might your name be, mortal?"

"My goddess, my name is Tarroel Seiro."

"Then, Tarroel, I accept. I shall take you to Twilight Way at sunrise. I give you until then to prepare."