The Crossroads of Destiny [PG 15]
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July 12th, 2009 (4:38 AM). Edited August 2nd, 2009 by . R e ð e m p † i o n.
. R e ð e m p † i o n
•You got a piece of meh!•
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: Äl†0 - mare
Shrouds of Revelation
I found myself wavering beneath cold regret and desolation. It was all but a nightmare from which I could not get myself to stir. The memories I had found were bitter and painful and as if they were very much still thriving within me. My chest started to tighten, and my throat began to dry up as a manifestation of the deep wound time could never mend. The overwhelming urge to shed my tears was too much to handle. The pain was agonizing. It was like those few intolerable moments were meant to flow through time again and again, each coupled with greater sorrow every sole instance they came back…
The nature of grief.
My dark nightmares reappeared, primed and eager to viciously dig away into my soul, mocking me with the desolate realism it wielded
He was gone.
My fists were shaking. Rage and anguish both blazed within me. I struggled to recall those memories, no matter how excruciating they were
My chest was thinning even more, and tears were brimming at the corners of my dark-brown eyes. At that very instant, I had realized…
Nothing but the tranquil sound of waves washing over my frail body was heard. I was indescribably weak, my injured body unable to stir. The throbbing blaze all over me was doused with the cold empathy of the rolling sea. I simply lay there, thoughtless, senseless and paralyzed as I inanely gazed into the heavens painted in darkened gray. The deafening outbursts and the loud, unanswered cries for help were subdued in the background, but they still rang ominously when those dark moments were long gone in history’s course.
Strident explosions, and collective shrieks of panic, and disarray roughly followed after. Time seemed so dawdling then, on those dark moments of chaos and havoc. Credentials, shrapnel and communal pieces of luggage soared within the slowly degenerating confines of the blazing husk of steel and aluminum.
I firmly grasped the dark-grey seat before me. The right division of the plane had quickly broken off, leaving us bare and vulnerable to the intense vacuum of air within the rows as we plummeted to our deaths.
Seeing every single horrific detail slow to a complete crawl within those moments of panic mightily struck fear in me, smothering me with its fundamental essence. It was a fear that prevented me from even acting in response.
The shrill voices and noises faded and the flashing sights and colors weakened. My perception was at last leaving me to the cold reassurance and sympathy of the growing darkness.
A mistake I would regret evermore.
Before oblivion finally embraced me with all its strength, this sentiment of warmth and compassion rapidly gripped me. Steadily, I opened my eyes seeing an indistinct and peculiarly memorable figure with a true appearance of decision before it
A vibrant blaze of emerald green.
And ardent words alongside the swiftly vanishing spectacle reverberated in my mind.
“You have enough. You know enough. You
In this moment, the numbing fear was finally parting my physical form. However, before I could regain all command for my part and conception, I saw the large fiery shell of deteriorating metal dive farther and farther away before me… The callous wind wept through my jade-colored hair, suspending me above the harsh, dreary heavens as I slowly fell towards the security of the shores below.
Nothing was in my mind then, nothing apart from the prior events occurring within an instantaneous second -- so much within that small quantity of time. A torrent of memories began to slowly fade with the constant stir of the shadows. I slowly closed my eyes, grappling the only thought of action that made sense to me.
“Why interrupt my training?”
“The answer is known to you, isn’t it?” He smiled.
I leaned back on the dark-grey seat, considering his logic and looking towards the extensive pavement and the soaring commercial infrastructures of Ever Grande Airport. It had become clear to me.
He sought my presence
a simple verity to acknowledge.
He never has.
“Was it the battle then?”
“Would I trouble you for a mere battle?” His emerald eyes shone with true consideration.
No, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t like that. He knew my training at LaRousse was thorough and rigorous. After all, it was he who recommended that I take my course there. He called to meet and converse on this private flight. It must be something of utmost importance for him to consult me on such short notice. Nevertheless, I am positive it isn’t the battle that came to mind. It’s more than that trivial concern.
Though, the sight of him battling with the challenger raised a lot of questions in my mind: it was unusual and yet an outstanding spectacle. My perspective of him changed entirely, all because of what he displayed before me and those around him that I truly found myself altering my perception.
Nonetheless, this was not what he wanted me here for.
“Tell me. Are you aware of the incident in relation of the NSB’s general defense issue?”
“Yes, neither viable evidence of a threat or trading was found, but why ask this?”
Silence. He turned for a moment, a look of solemnity fixed itself upon his serene countenance.
“This was what I wanted to inform you about,” he replied, shattering the momentary silence while giving me a soft gesture.
Three months have passed since the start of the post-mortem and elevation of nationwide defense. In addition, there was no reported verification of the noted movement and trade. Why would he take interest on such a subservient case?
And yet, he knew this.
“But why could you not tell me over the receiver?” I asked, puzzled by his manner of contact.
“Such methods are traceable and would arouse suspicion. Talking to you personally was the only way to avoid them.”
“The syndicates that managed to evade extensive investigation. They do exist and, by some means, penetrated the administration and cloaked their identity within the Confederates - a dark uprising is against my administration...” he responded with a bit of strain in his voice.
“How does all that involve me?”
He beamed. “I require your assistance in opposition to the rebellion.”
“I? Now? I do not think my training was extended to match these assignments,” I started, looking down on the dark lavender carpet in discontent and frustration. “You know as much as myself that I lack the training and experience...”
I admitted to this. Three months isn’t adequate, but it was enough to convince any and all that I was still in the progression of becoming an Elite.
Let alone a Champion.
I felt his gentle hand on my shoulder and heard the ardent words that told me otherwise.
You have enough. You know enough. You
I raised my head to meet his composed gaze. The same gaze he gave others –including his challenger– on the Ever Grande Coliseum that day.
The deafening cheers of jubilation shifted all my awareness towards him and only him. It was at that precise moment that I saw the special trait he possessed, the unique attribute which separated him from the long line of gallant trainers: valor and honor. At those very few dawdling moments, awe and high regard had drowned me with his presence. It was like a thin coat of vibrant luminance blanketed him, and a corona of influence and power emanated along with it. The aura of a true victor.
Still, he waved his hand with much grace and grinned with much modesty, despite his brilliant victory. He held it out toward the fallen and defeated contender. As he helped him up, a gentle smile etched across his face, as if telling the challenger, “Don’t quit. Look how far you and your partners have gone.”
I knew long ago that pride had not corrupted his heart, and the rank he was at did not dominate his thoughts. They did not hold him back.
His outstanding accomplishments couldn’t have possibly been attainable if it were not for the tireless aid of his loyal partners: his Pokémon. He cherished them most, trusted and believed in them until the very end. They would never let him down. They never had.
I had been blessed with much fortune to study under his hand. Learning from his strategies, pursuing his legacy, and growing from his morals
these were all I could ever ask for. And at this moment, I was finally acknowledged by Hoenn as more than just a trainer. He knew my potential was far beyond its limits and without false judgment. Why could I not realize this sooner? Those succinct words hounded every fragment of discontent within me. He knew my abilities could assist him in cases such as this. And I trusted his resolution. I was legitimately honored...
“Matthew, you are now a Militant Wing of my Inquisition. You now have the right to access any administrative information or database at your discretion and full admission to prohibited sectors,” he stated, looking at me with eyes that flared with high-expectations and trust. “I know what you and your partners are capable of.”
This was it then: my status was even superior to that of the standard Militant Wings of the Senate, equaling the rank of a regimental commandant. “Thank you, Your Excellency…”
I was truly gratified beyond comprehension.
“Understand that my decision takes precedence and authority over all, and your Militant certification has already been approved. However, many in the Senate do not feel that this rank is not to be given to you. I will confer to you now the medallion recognizing you as an official bureaucrat of the State.”
He attained a small, dark box from beneath his seat. It possessed carved and embossed features on its smooth surfaces that bore the official crest of the Republic: three, different-colored, bright stars in a triangular formation enclosing a twisting dragon with yellow runes on its surface. Within the chest was a large, circular, emerald medallion with what seemed to be the dragon from the Republic’s crest carved on its shimmering surface. He then placed it upon me, and I felt it: a genuine sense of realization and conformity, residing in this moment as a true official of the Republic.
A faint grin of resolve was all I could muster. It spoke the silent words of gratitude that my lips refused to utter. He smiled warmly in response. That radiantly emergent sentiment took away all the uncertainties and fears I had from me and the ultimatum of the upcoming
it was what altered my perception of him all along.
He truly is and will always be a great leader, a redeemer and a Champion. However, at this lustrous moment and probably throughout my life, he is more than those collective remarks and ranks.
He is my mentor.
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