silvanarrow
A figment of your imagination
- 136
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Middle Earth
- Seen Oct 14, 2013
(OOC: Sorry for the delay! I was busy with college stuff and had writer's block.)
Prologue
A shaft of sunlight crept through the almost imperceptible gap in the tent flaps, bringing with it the ever-present grains of desert sand and the promise of another sweltering day. The brightness moved over the figure sleeping in the tent and fell across his closed eyelids. That was all it took to bring Anton Chesnokov to wakefulness, just like every other day. The thin blanket he slept under pooled around his waist as the lithe young man sat up on his sleeping mat, yawning and stretching his back until he felt a few vertebrae pop pleasurably. Beside him, his Combusken was also starting to wake up, having sensed his master stir.
"Come on, Griffith. We don't want to day to start without us," Anton joked.
"Busken," Griffith replied, giving his head a quick shake to get rid of the cobwebs.
The duo exited the small tent, and Anton took a deep breath of the relatively cool morning air. The sun had just risen less than an hour ago and had not yet had the chance to bake the rolling sands with her sweltering rays. The tents of the other people in the Desert Tribe were arranged in a circle facing inward, with the supply wagons forming a protective outer rim. They would be pitching camp and leaving soon; Anton's father had mentioned yesterday that they had already stayed in this one place for too long.
Anton splashed some water from a copper bin onto his face, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid on his skin. As he dried off with a hand towel, a familiar voice spoke behind him: "And here I was hoping you would oversleep. I had this great story planned out and everything for our teacher."
Anton turned and met his younger brother's mischievous gaze with a smirk of his own. "Sorry, Maks, but the only way that would happen was if you tied me down while I was asleep."
Maks gave a hearty laugh, his dark brown hair, so much like his brother's, bouncing on his head. "Careful, brother, or you'll give me too many ideas." His Torchic peered timidly around from behind his leg but gave a happy chirp at seeing Griffith. The little chick adored his older brother. "All right, Aedan and I are going to head over for the morning drills. See you there."
"See you in a few," Anton replied with a wave as Maks and Aedan jogged away. After bidding his parents good morning, he and Griffith wolfed down a quick breakfast before taking off to join their siblings. The men of the tribe, ranging from boys having just passed into their teens to the veteran fighters, were just starting to gather in a flat area just outside the wagon rim, where the dirt was packed down harder. This was where Anton and Griffith spent most of their days, training individually, with each other, and with the other men to hone their fighting skills so they could protect their tribe. Sometimes he would be assigned to a hunting or scouting party, and other times he would be called to defend the people against a Fire Tribe raid. The number of raids had dropped off considerably since the end of the war, but they still couldn't be too careful.
After performing some basic stretches to warm his muscles, Anton drew his hand-and-a-half sword from its scabbard at his waist. He swung the blade experimentally, testing the feel of the hilt and the weight of the weapon in his hands. It was familiar, comfortable, like the whispers of an old friend. "Looking for a sparring partner?" Anton turned to see Maks standing nearby, his shortsword drawn and held with the point down.
Anton smirked. "Sure, if you don't mind losing again, little brother."
"Oh, I'll have you know that I've got a few new tricks up my sleeve," Maks returned easily. "Prepare yourself!" He suddenly lashed out with his blade, and Anton reflexively brought his sword to bear to block it.
Anton grunted as he bore the force of his brother's strike. "Not bad, looks like you've improved a little." He forced Maks off him and countered with a swing to the head. Maks easily ducked, just like Anton knew he would, and soon the brothers fell into a familiar rhythm of blocking, parrying, and striking with their blades. Griffith and Aedan watched from the sidelines, studying their masters' movements. Griffith in particular had learned how to complement Anton's sword fighting with his own hand-to-hand combat by watching in this manner.
As they fought, a wave of vertigo suddenly swept through Anton's limbs, blurring his vision and nearly bringing him to his knees. Sensing something was wrong, Maks pulled back and exclaimed, "Anton? What's wrong?"
"N-nothing. It's just…the heat…" Anton didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, as the earth rose up to meet him as his vision went black.
Anton groaned as his consciousness slowly returned, though his head felt like it was in a fog. "W-what happened? Where am I?" Staggering to his feet, he could see nothing but darkness. The area immediately around him lightened slightly so that he could see nearly a dozen other human silhouettes standing with him in a circle, though he could not distinguish their faces.
Before he could think to form words, a loud booming voice resonated from nowhere yet was everywhere at once. "MY CHILDREN…" A chill ran down Anton's spine. This voice sounded almost…godlike. "I HAVE CALLED YOU HERE BECAUSE YOU ALL HAD A COMMON TRAIT. YOU ALL HAVE HAD A FEELING THAT YOU WERE DESTINED TO DO SOMETHING MORE." Anton realized that this was true. Ever since he had received Griffith, he had wanted nothing more than to grow stronger to protect his tribe. But was that all he would ever accomplish with his life? There was so much more to this world than the deserts he had called home for so many years, and he yearned to experience them.
"I AM ARCEUS, THE ALPHA ONE." Stunned beyond belief, Anton dropped to his knees and bowed his head. The elders had always taught him to revere Arceus above all others and that one would die for looking him in the eye. "DO NOT FEAR ME LITTLE ONES. I COME BRINGING A MISSION. MY EVIL BROTHER, GIRATINA, IS ONCE AGAIN TRYING TO BRING HAVOC TO MY DOMAIN. HIS PORTAL IS DISSINIGRATING AS WE SPEAK. HIS MINONS HAVE BEEN UNLEASHED UPON THIS WORLD, WREAKING HAVOC WHERE EVER THEY GO. WHILE WE COULD SOLVE THIS PROBLEM OURSELVES, WE DO NOT SEE YOUR LIVES AS MEANINGFUL ANYMORE. YOU ONLY WORSHIP THE GODS YOU CHOOSE INSTEAD OF ALL OF US. TO PROVE YOU DO STILL WORSHIP US YOU MUST FIND THE TRUE GOD TEMPLE'S OF YOUR LAND AND FIND THE PROOF THAT EXISTS THERE."
Before Anton could think to wonder about this situation or the proof he was supposed to find, images started flitting through his mind's eye, images sent from Arceus himself. A building inside a volcano… "A VOLCANO ON THE COAST OF THE FIRE REALM HOLDS HEATRAN'S PROOF." A cave concealed in the deserts that he knew all too well… "DEEP BENEATH THE TREACHEROUS QUICKSAND LIES GROUDON'S PROOF." A temple in the towering mountains… "HIGHER THAN YOU CAN GO, REGIGIGAS' PROOF." A fortress in the underwater abyss… "KYOGRE'S PROOF LIES DEEP ON THE OCEAN FLOOR." A temple in a dense, forbidding marsh… "PALKIA'S MARSH KINGDOM HOLDS HIS PROOF." The silhouette of a building hidden deep within the forest… "SHAYMINS'S TREACHEROUS LAIR HOLDS THE PROOF OF HIS." A floating plateau in the plains… "RAYQUAZA'S PROOF IS LOCATED DEEP WITHIN THE PLAINS OF THE SKY REALM." And finally… "THE PLACE OF FEAR FOR THOSE OF THE REALM OF LIGHT, THERE LIES DIALGA'S PROOF."
The images faded from Anton's mind, though he yearned to reach out to them, to make them a reality. "THERE ARE OTHERS LIKE YOU IN YOUR REALM. YOU CAN TRAVEL WITH THEM OR AWAY FROM THEM IF YOU WISH FOR NOW. FIND THE TEMPLE'S AND RECOVER THEIR PROOF. BE WARNED HOWEVER AS GIRATINA'S MINONS ALSO HAUNT THE TEMPLE'S NOW WITH THEIR DARK POKEMON AT THEIR SIDE. THEY WILL KILL YOU IF THEY GET THE CHANCE. ONE LAST THING MY CHILDREN. TRUST NO ONE OF YOUR TRUE MISSION. THIS IS FOR YOU, AND YOU ALONE."
Anton opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come. Reality faded away again, and other voices rang in his ears.
"Anton! Anton, wake up!"
"Busken! Combusken!"
"Torchic! Tor!"
Anton opened his eyes reluctantly to see Maks, Griffith, and Aedan around him. He sat up with a groan and rested his hand on his forehead. "Ow…my head…"
"What happened? Are you okay?" Maks asked worriedly.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Remembering Arceus' warning, he quickly invented a story. "I just let myself get too dehydrated. Won't make that mistake again."
"Maybe you should lie down in the shade. You've been pushing it too hard lately," Maks advised.
"Sure…" Anton got to his feet and headed back towards the tents, Griffith close by his side. He couldn't shake the sense of urgency that he now felt to leave, but the question was…what would he tell his people? What would he tell his parents? And most importantly, what would he tell his brother?
Prologue
A shaft of sunlight crept through the almost imperceptible gap in the tent flaps, bringing with it the ever-present grains of desert sand and the promise of another sweltering day. The brightness moved over the figure sleeping in the tent and fell across his closed eyelids. That was all it took to bring Anton Chesnokov to wakefulness, just like every other day. The thin blanket he slept under pooled around his waist as the lithe young man sat up on his sleeping mat, yawning and stretching his back until he felt a few vertebrae pop pleasurably. Beside him, his Combusken was also starting to wake up, having sensed his master stir.
"Come on, Griffith. We don't want to day to start without us," Anton joked.
"Busken," Griffith replied, giving his head a quick shake to get rid of the cobwebs.
The duo exited the small tent, and Anton took a deep breath of the relatively cool morning air. The sun had just risen less than an hour ago and had not yet had the chance to bake the rolling sands with her sweltering rays. The tents of the other people in the Desert Tribe were arranged in a circle facing inward, with the supply wagons forming a protective outer rim. They would be pitching camp and leaving soon; Anton's father had mentioned yesterday that they had already stayed in this one place for too long.
Anton splashed some water from a copper bin onto his face, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid on his skin. As he dried off with a hand towel, a familiar voice spoke behind him: "And here I was hoping you would oversleep. I had this great story planned out and everything for our teacher."
Anton turned and met his younger brother's mischievous gaze with a smirk of his own. "Sorry, Maks, but the only way that would happen was if you tied me down while I was asleep."
Maks gave a hearty laugh, his dark brown hair, so much like his brother's, bouncing on his head. "Careful, brother, or you'll give me too many ideas." His Torchic peered timidly around from behind his leg but gave a happy chirp at seeing Griffith. The little chick adored his older brother. "All right, Aedan and I are going to head over for the morning drills. See you there."
"See you in a few," Anton replied with a wave as Maks and Aedan jogged away. After bidding his parents good morning, he and Griffith wolfed down a quick breakfast before taking off to join their siblings. The men of the tribe, ranging from boys having just passed into their teens to the veteran fighters, were just starting to gather in a flat area just outside the wagon rim, where the dirt was packed down harder. This was where Anton and Griffith spent most of their days, training individually, with each other, and with the other men to hone their fighting skills so they could protect their tribe. Sometimes he would be assigned to a hunting or scouting party, and other times he would be called to defend the people against a Fire Tribe raid. The number of raids had dropped off considerably since the end of the war, but they still couldn't be too careful.
After performing some basic stretches to warm his muscles, Anton drew his hand-and-a-half sword from its scabbard at his waist. He swung the blade experimentally, testing the feel of the hilt and the weight of the weapon in his hands. It was familiar, comfortable, like the whispers of an old friend. "Looking for a sparring partner?" Anton turned to see Maks standing nearby, his shortsword drawn and held with the point down.
Anton smirked. "Sure, if you don't mind losing again, little brother."
"Oh, I'll have you know that I've got a few new tricks up my sleeve," Maks returned easily. "Prepare yourself!" He suddenly lashed out with his blade, and Anton reflexively brought his sword to bear to block it.
Anton grunted as he bore the force of his brother's strike. "Not bad, looks like you've improved a little." He forced Maks off him and countered with a swing to the head. Maks easily ducked, just like Anton knew he would, and soon the brothers fell into a familiar rhythm of blocking, parrying, and striking with their blades. Griffith and Aedan watched from the sidelines, studying their masters' movements. Griffith in particular had learned how to complement Anton's sword fighting with his own hand-to-hand combat by watching in this manner.
As they fought, a wave of vertigo suddenly swept through Anton's limbs, blurring his vision and nearly bringing him to his knees. Sensing something was wrong, Maks pulled back and exclaimed, "Anton? What's wrong?"
"N-nothing. It's just…the heat…" Anton didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, as the earth rose up to meet him as his vision went black.
Anton groaned as his consciousness slowly returned, though his head felt like it was in a fog. "W-what happened? Where am I?" Staggering to his feet, he could see nothing but darkness. The area immediately around him lightened slightly so that he could see nearly a dozen other human silhouettes standing with him in a circle, though he could not distinguish their faces.
Before he could think to form words, a loud booming voice resonated from nowhere yet was everywhere at once. "MY CHILDREN…" A chill ran down Anton's spine. This voice sounded almost…godlike. "I HAVE CALLED YOU HERE BECAUSE YOU ALL HAD A COMMON TRAIT. YOU ALL HAVE HAD A FEELING THAT YOU WERE DESTINED TO DO SOMETHING MORE." Anton realized that this was true. Ever since he had received Griffith, he had wanted nothing more than to grow stronger to protect his tribe. But was that all he would ever accomplish with his life? There was so much more to this world than the deserts he had called home for so many years, and he yearned to experience them.
"I AM ARCEUS, THE ALPHA ONE." Stunned beyond belief, Anton dropped to his knees and bowed his head. The elders had always taught him to revere Arceus above all others and that one would die for looking him in the eye. "DO NOT FEAR ME LITTLE ONES. I COME BRINGING A MISSION. MY EVIL BROTHER, GIRATINA, IS ONCE AGAIN TRYING TO BRING HAVOC TO MY DOMAIN. HIS PORTAL IS DISSINIGRATING AS WE SPEAK. HIS MINONS HAVE BEEN UNLEASHED UPON THIS WORLD, WREAKING HAVOC WHERE EVER THEY GO. WHILE WE COULD SOLVE THIS PROBLEM OURSELVES, WE DO NOT SEE YOUR LIVES AS MEANINGFUL ANYMORE. YOU ONLY WORSHIP THE GODS YOU CHOOSE INSTEAD OF ALL OF US. TO PROVE YOU DO STILL WORSHIP US YOU MUST FIND THE TRUE GOD TEMPLE'S OF YOUR LAND AND FIND THE PROOF THAT EXISTS THERE."
Before Anton could think to wonder about this situation or the proof he was supposed to find, images started flitting through his mind's eye, images sent from Arceus himself. A building inside a volcano… "A VOLCANO ON THE COAST OF THE FIRE REALM HOLDS HEATRAN'S PROOF." A cave concealed in the deserts that he knew all too well… "DEEP BENEATH THE TREACHEROUS QUICKSAND LIES GROUDON'S PROOF." A temple in the towering mountains… "HIGHER THAN YOU CAN GO, REGIGIGAS' PROOF." A fortress in the underwater abyss… "KYOGRE'S PROOF LIES DEEP ON THE OCEAN FLOOR." A temple in a dense, forbidding marsh… "PALKIA'S MARSH KINGDOM HOLDS HIS PROOF." The silhouette of a building hidden deep within the forest… "SHAYMINS'S TREACHEROUS LAIR HOLDS THE PROOF OF HIS." A floating plateau in the plains… "RAYQUAZA'S PROOF IS LOCATED DEEP WITHIN THE PLAINS OF THE SKY REALM." And finally… "THE PLACE OF FEAR FOR THOSE OF THE REALM OF LIGHT, THERE LIES DIALGA'S PROOF."
The images faded from Anton's mind, though he yearned to reach out to them, to make them a reality. "THERE ARE OTHERS LIKE YOU IN YOUR REALM. YOU CAN TRAVEL WITH THEM OR AWAY FROM THEM IF YOU WISH FOR NOW. FIND THE TEMPLE'S AND RECOVER THEIR PROOF. BE WARNED HOWEVER AS GIRATINA'S MINONS ALSO HAUNT THE TEMPLE'S NOW WITH THEIR DARK POKEMON AT THEIR SIDE. THEY WILL KILL YOU IF THEY GET THE CHANCE. ONE LAST THING MY CHILDREN. TRUST NO ONE OF YOUR TRUE MISSION. THIS IS FOR YOU, AND YOU ALONE."
Anton opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come. Reality faded away again, and other voices rang in his ears.
"Anton! Anton, wake up!"
"Busken! Combusken!"
"Torchic! Tor!"
Anton opened his eyes reluctantly to see Maks, Griffith, and Aedan around him. He sat up with a groan and rested his hand on his forehead. "Ow…my head…"
"What happened? Are you okay?" Maks asked worriedly.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Remembering Arceus' warning, he quickly invented a story. "I just let myself get too dehydrated. Won't make that mistake again."
"Maybe you should lie down in the shade. You've been pushing it too hard lately," Maks advised.
"Sure…" Anton got to his feet and headed back towards the tents, Griffith close by his side. He couldn't shake the sense of urgency that he now felt to leave, but the question was…what would he tell his people? What would he tell his parents? And most importantly, what would he tell his brother?
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