So, you want to hear a story? Are you certain of that? Because I've got more than a few, and they're a bit above your level of sensibilities. No? You think you can handle it? Fine. Let's see what you've got, kid.
If you weren't already aware, my name is Aerin. Aerin the Aegislash. And you've never seen war like I have.
It was thirty years ago that the City fell. You know this, of course. But what your smarmy little teachers and history books can't tell you is the utter rot that swept the day, the devastation that the Battle caused. Not just in property destruction or lives lost, but in the way it corrupted. Why did it ever happen? People will give you lots of reasons, kid, but the truth is that there wasn't a damned one. It was all lies, deceit, and behind it all was greed, pure and simple.
But those pricks at the top know how to spin that greed, get the brashness of the masses all riled up and send them against one another, like some fucking winner takes all sport.
I was part of the Guardian Corps. Ser Borruk the Bastiodon led us. He was one of the best, and he was in charge of the City's defenses. We were the ones tasked with holding its walls and ensuring the safety of its citizens. Boy, did that fail miserably.
When Cormia the Celesteela came, we were pathetically under prepared. We had never had to deal with an Ultra Beast before, and we underestimated her strength. She burst through our front lines with ease, and, even with all the might of my shield, our Sentinels could hold her for but a moment. I remember the feeling of her claws as they smashed into me, driving me to the dirt in just two blows. Never before in my life had I fallen to any foe so quickly. If it hadn't been so terrifying, it would have been quite humbling. Her power was to be respected. Respected and feared.
Then Drax came. If Cormia had been difficult to keep at bay, imagine doing so with a damn Darkrai knocking out battalions left and right with his sinister Dark Void. The nightmares he induced were crippling. You could hear the screams echoing throughout the city, all through the battle. Those that survived still bear those scars. Those are not wounds that can be healed, not in the way we soldiers know how.
Eranea the Empoleon, the Guardian Corps' Strike Commander, came at Drax with everything. Borruk had already fallen to Drax and Cormia, and though he fought valiantly, keeping them back longer than anyone else had managed, he was still no match for them. When his line had fallen, Eranea gathered her Steelwatch agents and took the fight to Drax and Cormia directly.
Damn, were they good. For a moment, I thought they might have had it. Celesteela had been incapacitated, one of her arms completely obliterated, and Drax was cornered and on his last gasp. Ferona, a member of the Ghost Division, had Drax right in her cold grasp. That Froslass was a terror, let me tell ya. She was ready to drive an ice spear right through Drax's black heart.
At that point, I had managed to regroup with them. I wanted to see Cormia fall after how easily she'd defeated me. I needed redemption. Gantin, one of the bravest warriors I ever knew, had come to my aid. That Gallade was unparalleled in hand-to-hand combat. We arrived just as Ferona was about to slay Drax. Just in time to see her slashed in two by Horgaid, the Haxorus leading the enemy assault squadron. In an instant he had slew her and the entire Steelwatch aiding her. Even Eranea fell, completely caught off guard by his attack.
Then Horgaid was joined by Ifrit the Incineroar, Jex the Jolteon and Klybor the Kartana. Those four ran straight for the gates, where Lemorn the Luxray stood vigilant. He managed to relay the danger to the rest of the troops, before the eyes he was so prized for were gouged out. It made no difference. His warning could never have saved us.
Morvath the Malamar and Nertyne the Necrozma used the opening made by Horgaid to storm the City. Morvath had managed to get his clutches into some of our best soldiers, and was forcing them to lead the charge. Orn the Oricorio, Pramen the Pyroar, Qwastor the Quilava, Raemina the Roserade, and Syrat the Sceptile . . . all noble warriors I had once fought beside, all lost to Morvath's mind control.
They cut a bloody swath through the city. Hundreds of civilians slaughtered. Tapu Koko attempted to evacuate as many as he could while his sisters and brother held the main fairway for as long as possible, but he barely managed to save a quarter of those in the district.
Gantin and I joined the Tapu in their fight. We couldn't let this massacre continue, even if we were powerless against the enemy. He took up my blade—a dangerous thing for any soul to do—and raised my shield. We worked as one, him using his superior combat skills to cut down the enemy with my blade and fend them off with my shield, with me supplying him the power, at the cost of fragments of his own soul. It was astounding! But all the more tragic for it. We slew our comrades that had fallen under Morvath's control, unable to reach Morvath himself. Horgaid's squad rammed into us, Jex and Ifrit falling to Gantin's skill. Klybor proved a valiant foe, matching Gantin's swordsmanship blow for blow, but our combined power managed to shatter one of his blades, giving us an opening to strike. He fell, finally.
Horgaid himself was a brute. He used his twin tusks to slice at us relentlessly—just look at the scars on my shield for proof—but his brutishness proved to be his weakness. He was a cold, calculated monster, but his bloodlust outgrew his shrewd tactics and left him sprawling against Gantin's superior mind. It was so satisfying as my blade cut through Horgaid's tusks, castrating the dragon in the midst of battle. He perished covered in his own shame.
After that, the City's scholar came to our aid. What, does that title "scholar" make you think he was any less of a warrior? Perhaps you should rethink your assumptions. Ulvr the Uxie was one of the greatest minds I have ever had the pleasure of speaking with, and fighting alongside. He never needed to touch his opponents: he razed them all with just his thoughts. He sought out Morvath and broke his mental corruption, freeing the few surviving allies we had under his control. Then he confronted the weakened Drax and Cormia, both great warriors, but of shallower mind. They too fell to Ulvr's mental might.
Next he challenged Nertyne. The beast was a potent one. Ulvr almost fell that day . . . but the Royal Guard came to assist us just in time. Wynn the Weavile, Xiell the Xatu, Ysell the Yanmega and Zimora the Zoroark all came crashing in with Viriel the Victini empowering them. They saved Ulvr, and Viriel shared his energy with us.
What a rush that was. They associate Victini with victory for a reason. The energy he gave us was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. My blade burned, but it did not cause me pain, nor did it scorch Gintan. His spirit blossomed with the boon, and I could feel his extra energy channeling into me as well. I gave it back to him, and he returned it to me, and this cycle continued in an endless circle until our combined might was enough to raise us to Nertyne's level. With the Royal Guard keeping him at bay, we ended his sinful life with one, overwhelming strike that ripped through him like butter.
That marked the end of the fight. The destruction it had caused could not be repaired . . . and I'm not sure if the world will ever recover from it. The City is gone, and the sons of bitches that incited the conflict are still out there, somewhere. But when they show their faces again, you can be damn sure that I'll be there for one last battle. I will make sure they pay for the havoc and loss they caused.
Until then, I wait with you kids. Maybe one day you'll find the strength to take this battle to them. But goodness help you if you do.