Sunnybeam
when the sky is bright
- 544
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Seen Jun 9, 2011
-dies- Why am I doing this? I had intended to hold off on publicly posting this until I had written at least five chapters, but...
Wev. Here it is, the beginning of the fic that has been eating my life for the past five months. I can't write a summary just now. Give me a few days and I'll come up with something.
When reviewing, HOLD NO CRITICISM BACK. Rip it to shreds and berate me on any flaw you might find, I WANT TO IMPROVE DANGIT and this is the best way because there are too many noobs on fanficnet and only my friends find my dA stuff. T__T
________________________________________________________________________
Wev. Here it is, the beginning of the fic that has been eating my life for the past five months. I can't write a summary just now. Give me a few days and I'll come up with something.
When reviewing, HOLD NO CRITICISM BACK. Rip it to shreds and berate me on any flaw you might find, I WANT TO IMPROVE DANGIT and this is the best way because there are too many noobs on fanficnet and only my friends find my dA stuff. T__T
________________________________________________________________________
Chapter One
So Falls the Evening Rain
So Falls the Evening Rain
The sky growled and rumbled as sheets of water poured down on Twinleaf Town. Houses sat small and dark among the torrential rain, their yards patched with muddy ponds and their windows glowing warmly in the darkness of evening. The trees swayed in a rustling sigh of wind, hissing amongst the cacophony of the storm.
Anyone who might have been within the town limits as the rain poured down might have heard a muffled slam, seen a vaguely orange blur dash from one house to another. They might have glimpsed a sodden figure, lanky and blond-headed, throw open the second residence's front door and hurtle inside.
That hypothetical onlooker would have been the sole witness to the beginning of our story, though one could argue that it began much earlier, with the master plan of a man named Cyrus being executed atop the sacred Mount Coronet. Or one could hypothesize that it began even earlier than that, with a television program on the monster of the Lake of Rage and two friends' subsequent exploration of the lake near their own home. It may have begun with a Mudkip taken from a rucksack to ward off a vicious Poochyena, or with a boy determined to best his lifelong rival. It may have begun with the carving of Celestic Town's legendary frescoes, or with the burning of a sacred tower, or with the long-ago struggle of the land and sea's mighty gods. It may have begun with the world itself, or even before that, in the void before being. But the beginning is of no importance here and now; the story I wish to tell you is an ending, and this particular storm-tossed eve was the beginning of that end.
The woman named Johanna looked up from the stove in surprise as the front door opened and closed with a bang. The tall boy who had braved the storm stood there in the foyer, drenched from head to toe, shaking his foot vigorously in an attempt to kick off a persistent sneaker. He acknowledged the woman's bemused glance with a wide grin and a wave, stumbling over as the offending shoee finally flew from his foot and landed across its mate beside the door.
"Hey…heya, Mrs. Pearl!" he said, dipping his head quickly in a brief, respectful gesture before darting towards the stairs. "Kalia's up there, right?" He didn't even wait for a response, his foot meeting the top step before Johanna could open her mouth to reply and disappearing around a corner before a word could leave her lips. The sound of yet another door slamming and the playfully indignant bellow of a Torterra caused a smile to creep over her face as she chuckled and shook her head in mock disapproval.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
The large, saurian turtle that lay just inside the room of one Kalia Pearl greeted the visitor with rumbling purrs, rubbing his head against the blond's legs like a feline. The tree on the beast's back swayed back and forth as though buffeted by the winds that raged outside, rustling in deep contentment.
"Hey, Twigster!" the boy laughed, bending down to scratch the beast's head. It let out a low, happy bellow in return.
A scratching noise from the other end of the room was what caused the boy to look up, focusing on the girl sitting at a writing desk and diligently scribing some text into a fabric-bound notebook. Her back was to him, her deepest blue hair falling behind her in a ponytail. She paused, tapping the pencil's end against her upper lip.
Her voice came out in an even, uninterested tone. "Lewis. It's raining."
The boy in question threw his hands into the air, mocking hurt. "What a welcome. I'm honored, Kally." His face broke into an impish grin, and he crossed his arms over his orange-striped shirt. "The rain made me think of you, actually."
"Is that a jibe against my 'pessimism'?" She turned and fixed him with the most empty of smiles, and to anyone more perceptive her facade of cheer would be obvious.
"Ya better believe it." Lewis picked up what appeared to be a small bronze figurine of a Torterra, smirking at it. "But that's not what I came here for...there's a kind of festival thing going on in Eterna City in a couple days, see?" He gave his friend a meaningful look. "Gardenia basically begged me to beg you to come. Probably to fawn over Twigster," he added casually, gesturing at the beast in question. "The reason she gave me was that there'd be a bunch of junior Grass trainers and she wanted you to host a class or something."
Kalia appeared to take this in, silent as she closed and bound the notebook, slipping it into a yellow shoulderbag that lay against one leg of the desk. At a questioning wave of the hands from Lewis, she pointed out, "You could've told me this tomorrow. When it wouldn't be dark and raining."
He gave in to that one, grinning sheepishly, but not really minding.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
A ship's horn sounded through Slateport's harbor, startling a stray flock of Wingull to flight with squawks and shrieks. Crowds of merchants, travelers, and tourists shifted around the commotion, a few hands flapping at the cawing birds to shoo them away from the dock. The salt from the water permeated the air, giving it a sharp tang from the docks where ships were anchored, to the market where merchants shouted their wares.
Above the churning crowds, a reptilian figure stood perched atop the edge of a roof. It stared out at the ships in the harbor with sharp, unblinking yellow eyes, the glare of a predator. The salty breeze that softly tossed the green frond sprouting from its head also caught in the wings of a wheeling Pelipper, lifting it into the lizard's sight.
The jade reptile's claws stirred restlessly on the metal gutter. Its beaklike jaws opened slightly, releasing a small huff of air. Its dark pupils flicked from the bird within its sights to a red-clothed boy who was sitting on a bench below it, methodically punching the buttons of a small yellow device.
The lizard lifted its gaze and opened its jaws silently, eyes focused on the Pelipper's swooping path. Something burning with a bright energy built in its throat, forming a glowing orb that split into a thousand pieces, then -
Terry leapt up with a yell of surprise as something large and white hit the ground in front of him with a loud squawk and a burst of feathers. It stumbled to its webbed feet, still screeching in agitation at something above them both and shedding smoldering plumes with each beat of its wings. With a final splitting cry, it lurched unsteadily into the air and towards the water.
The patrons of a nearby café watched this exchange with various expressions; of amusement, of bewilderment, of disapproval. Feeling his face heat up in embarrassment, Terry picked up his backpack and hurried away.
As he walked swiftly down the street, the odd feeling of being watched prickled at the back of his neck. He glared up to his left, where the lizard strolled nonchalantly along the roofs of shops and offices.
"What were you doing?" he demanded. "That Pelipper wasn't doing anything to you. And besides, you don't just go around attacking things in public, it makes you look like some kind of barbaric monster! I don't want to have to give you up to the authorities because you stepped out of line and accidentally hurt a human-"
The Grovyle snorted, stomping furiously and shaking showers of water from the gutter. Terry glared, but the anger on his face melted away quickly. "Look…Azaira, what's gotten into you? I mean, yeah, I've been conducting losing battles lately…" He scratched the back of his neck and flushed lightly in shame. "…But…we could be a team…we could win! If-"
Azaira had already gone ahead, not listening to a word.
Terry stood there for what seemed like a very long time, staring at the retreating figure of his long-time partner. He did not respond to the click at his waist, the ripple of heat around him, and the sudden presence of a Flygon behind him.
"Riaaaaawwn," Sheer sighed. "Nyar ayaaaaow."
The increasingly familiar feeling of a heavy weight on Terry's mood made itself known again, and with a resigned air, he trudged on, trying to catch up with his very first Pokemon.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
The first thing Nathan Crier had ever thought about Samantha Leaf; "Sweet Moltres, that is a LOT of Pokemon."
The size of her team had almost doubled since then – what the girl lacked in power and skill, she made up for in sheer persistent numbers. Nathan had an amusing vision of her unsuspecting opponent being swarmed by a regiment of Sentret. Not so funny when it actually happened, and the opponent was Nathan himself.
She seemed to take everything in stride. Losses didn't bother her, mistakes were brushed away in an instant, the revelation that her newfound traveling companion and mentor was technically the Indigo League Champion and, since the disappearance of Hoenn's Champion, quite possibly the world's strongest Trainer quickly took second priority to the adorable trick her Meowth had just learned.
Sam was a bit of an enigma. At one moment she could be fawning over Nathan's apparently "hot" rival and claiming that cuteness was just as redeeming a feature as strength of will; the next she would be cheering with maniac intent as that demon-incarnate Charmander of hers burnt the scenery to a crisp. She still insisted that the damn thing was "adorable."
She still hadn't won a single match against Nathan, but somehow ran on the faith that she would beat him some day, just you wait. He would reply that perfection had a natural form in evolution, and she would in turn defend to the death her starter's right to stay small and cute forever.
And set things ablaze.
Nathan had never been happier about Champion's amnesty.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Run, run, run.
A flash of green, a flash of gold. Trees rustling, rippling, worry spreading.
Breaths come in gasps now – legs scream for rest, lungs scream for air. But to stop would mean death.
Strength born from nature, muscles rippling beneath furred legs. The pursuer has no such worries.
Tears fly back with the wind, wiped from eyes by the unceasing flight. The pursued will reap what she has sown.
A snarl from behind, a fiery roar. A gasp of pain as the flames meet flesh, charring skin. One falls.
All is silent, but for the ominous pawsteps of the hunter.
The golden one bares its teeth, hunger in its eyes. The jagged black streaks on its sides sink into obvious ribs. The beast is starving.
The human girl looks up, but there are no words. There never were any. Only tears.
And then the monster stops.
Its eyes have turned dull.
With a rasping exhalation, the golden beast slumps to the ground, its eyes sliding shut beneath a once-regal mane.
The girl is bound to her silence as always, but she reaches to her waist with shaking hands and clutches a red electronic device, pointing it at her fallen pursuer.
Arcanine, the screen reads. Rare alternate coloring detected on specimen.
DIAGNOSE, she punches in with trembling fingers.
Vital readings at zero. Specimen diagnosis: deceased.
She lets out a breath that is relieved and terrified at once. This chase is over, but more will come.
They will chase her down until it is taken; then they will hunt each other for its curse.
But she will not surrender it. Not until they have torn every bone from her body.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
The vision faded with the light leaking through the window, and Nathan's eyes squinted against the sun's stubborn rays. Finally he relented, stretching with a mumble and crawling out from under the sheets. A series of muffled thumps from the neighboring guest bedroom told him that Samantha was awake as well. He wondered for a moment whether or not to monopolize the bathroom before his companion could, sighing when he heard her dash across the hallway, slam the door, and start the shower. So much for being downstairs for breakfast by eight.
With nothing better to do, the boy meandered over to the window, leaning on the sill and watching the sunrise streak the sky with shades of rose and crimson. He tapped the bridge of his nose thoughtfully, glancing down at the chair to his left and the objects piled in its seat.
He pulled a thin, worn belt from the mess and tapped at one of the magnetic clasps, releasing the sphere that was held there. A skull-masked face glared up at Nathan evenly from under the translucent red top. With a sheepish smile, he flipped the sphere open.
A brown, scaled beast emerged, its eyes narrowed beneath the skull mask that was fused to its face. It pointed one clawed paw at Nathan, holding it there for a suspended moment, then dropped it with a drawn-out growl of exasperation.
"I know," Nathan groaned, "I messed up yesterday. Sorry. I'm sorry. There, I said it."
The Marowak's stony glare remained focused on the boy.
"I was out of it?" Nathan offered, gesturing at nothing in particular. "Hey, we won. So I goofed up, yeah, but we turned it right around-"
He was cut off suddenly as the small but heavy creature jumped at him, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he staggered backwards.
"M-Murdoc!" he sputtered, gasping for breath. "What was that…for…"
Murdoc cackled, grinning at his human companion with mischief in his eyes. He offered a paw to the fallen boy, helping him to his feet.
"Hah…yeah…real funny, man. Don't do that again." Nathan rubbed at his ribs gingerly, wincing. "I'm lucky you didn't break anything."
The Marowak chuckled, shrugged, picked up his bone weapon from the floor, and bowed deeply but playfully to Nathan, ignoring the scolding shake of the head that he received.
The door to Nathan's room creaked open, and something cream-colored and furry slunk in. The room's owner growled briefly at it, waving a hand at it to scare it off, but the feline stared at him quizzically before jumping onto his bed, purring and curling up on his pillow.
"Aw hell no-" Nathan spat, jumping up and throwing open the door. "SAM! GET THAT THING OFF OF MY BED!"
A brunette girl peered into the room, combing her damp hair. "What are you – ohhh, it's Aidan!" Her face lit up as she pocketed the comb and strolled over to the bed, kneeling down to scratch the Meowth between the ears.
"Get it out," Nathan grumbled, crossing his arms. "It needs to learn boundaries, just like a child of any species. There are some things it can't do, and one of those is coming into my room and shedding all over my stuff-"
"You're exaggerating, Nate," Samantha chirped, scooping Aidan up in her arms. "He just came in here because he loves you so much and wants to hang around with you…"
Nathan pointed soundlessly to the door. Sticking her tongue out at him, Samantha exited.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Something stirred in the shadows.
A click of claws on stone floors? Perhaps.
The statue still remained there. Its eyes still reflected a light that had never been cast; it still was flawless despite millennia of rest.
A gruesome reminder, it was. There still was a wrong that could never truly be purged from all things, no matter how many times they burned it all to the beginning. No matter how many times the clock shattered, the wind froze, still there was that lurking chaos.
As long as there was order...there would be something there to balance it. Was that not the very principle of order itself?
What an injustice it was. Chaos bound by the truths of order. And it hurt.
Pain, pain, pain, and the only way to end it...to return to the reality of chaos' form...yes.
Bring it all to the ground. Evil? Evil was the game of an arrogant master. There was no wrong. Only survival.
Chaos would survive.
Anyone who might have been within the town limits as the rain poured down might have heard a muffled slam, seen a vaguely orange blur dash from one house to another. They might have glimpsed a sodden figure, lanky and blond-headed, throw open the second residence's front door and hurtle inside.
That hypothetical onlooker would have been the sole witness to the beginning of our story, though one could argue that it began much earlier, with the master plan of a man named Cyrus being executed atop the sacred Mount Coronet. Or one could hypothesize that it began even earlier than that, with a television program on the monster of the Lake of Rage and two friends' subsequent exploration of the lake near their own home. It may have begun with a Mudkip taken from a rucksack to ward off a vicious Poochyena, or with a boy determined to best his lifelong rival. It may have begun with the carving of Celestic Town's legendary frescoes, or with the burning of a sacred tower, or with the long-ago struggle of the land and sea's mighty gods. It may have begun with the world itself, or even before that, in the void before being. But the beginning is of no importance here and now; the story I wish to tell you is an ending, and this particular storm-tossed eve was the beginning of that end.
The woman named Johanna looked up from the stove in surprise as the front door opened and closed with a bang. The tall boy who had braved the storm stood there in the foyer, drenched from head to toe, shaking his foot vigorously in an attempt to kick off a persistent sneaker. He acknowledged the woman's bemused glance with a wide grin and a wave, stumbling over as the offending shoee finally flew from his foot and landed across its mate beside the door.
"Hey…heya, Mrs. Pearl!" he said, dipping his head quickly in a brief, respectful gesture before darting towards the stairs. "Kalia's up there, right?" He didn't even wait for a response, his foot meeting the top step before Johanna could open her mouth to reply and disappearing around a corner before a word could leave her lips. The sound of yet another door slamming and the playfully indignant bellow of a Torterra caused a smile to creep over her face as she chuckled and shook her head in mock disapproval.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
The large, saurian turtle that lay just inside the room of one Kalia Pearl greeted the visitor with rumbling purrs, rubbing his head against the blond's legs like a feline. The tree on the beast's back swayed back and forth as though buffeted by the winds that raged outside, rustling in deep contentment.
"Hey, Twigster!" the boy laughed, bending down to scratch the beast's head. It let out a low, happy bellow in return.
A scratching noise from the other end of the room was what caused the boy to look up, focusing on the girl sitting at a writing desk and diligently scribing some text into a fabric-bound notebook. Her back was to him, her deepest blue hair falling behind her in a ponytail. She paused, tapping the pencil's end against her upper lip.
Her voice came out in an even, uninterested tone. "Lewis. It's raining."
The boy in question threw his hands into the air, mocking hurt. "What a welcome. I'm honored, Kally." His face broke into an impish grin, and he crossed his arms over his orange-striped shirt. "The rain made me think of you, actually."
"Is that a jibe against my 'pessimism'?" She turned and fixed him with the most empty of smiles, and to anyone more perceptive her facade of cheer would be obvious.
"Ya better believe it." Lewis picked up what appeared to be a small bronze figurine of a Torterra, smirking at it. "But that's not what I came here for...there's a kind of festival thing going on in Eterna City in a couple days, see?" He gave his friend a meaningful look. "Gardenia basically begged me to beg you to come. Probably to fawn over Twigster," he added casually, gesturing at the beast in question. "The reason she gave me was that there'd be a bunch of junior Grass trainers and she wanted you to host a class or something."
Kalia appeared to take this in, silent as she closed and bound the notebook, slipping it into a yellow shoulderbag that lay against one leg of the desk. At a questioning wave of the hands from Lewis, she pointed out, "You could've told me this tomorrow. When it wouldn't be dark and raining."
He gave in to that one, grinning sheepishly, but not really minding.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
A ship's horn sounded through Slateport's harbor, startling a stray flock of Wingull to flight with squawks and shrieks. Crowds of merchants, travelers, and tourists shifted around the commotion, a few hands flapping at the cawing birds to shoo them away from the dock. The salt from the water permeated the air, giving it a sharp tang from the docks where ships were anchored, to the market where merchants shouted their wares.
Above the churning crowds, a reptilian figure stood perched atop the edge of a roof. It stared out at the ships in the harbor with sharp, unblinking yellow eyes, the glare of a predator. The salty breeze that softly tossed the green frond sprouting from its head also caught in the wings of a wheeling Pelipper, lifting it into the lizard's sight.
The jade reptile's claws stirred restlessly on the metal gutter. Its beaklike jaws opened slightly, releasing a small huff of air. Its dark pupils flicked from the bird within its sights to a red-clothed boy who was sitting on a bench below it, methodically punching the buttons of a small yellow device.
The lizard lifted its gaze and opened its jaws silently, eyes focused on the Pelipper's swooping path. Something burning with a bright energy built in its throat, forming a glowing orb that split into a thousand pieces, then -
Terry leapt up with a yell of surprise as something large and white hit the ground in front of him with a loud squawk and a burst of feathers. It stumbled to its webbed feet, still screeching in agitation at something above them both and shedding smoldering plumes with each beat of its wings. With a final splitting cry, it lurched unsteadily into the air and towards the water.
The patrons of a nearby café watched this exchange with various expressions; of amusement, of bewilderment, of disapproval. Feeling his face heat up in embarrassment, Terry picked up his backpack and hurried away.
As he walked swiftly down the street, the odd feeling of being watched prickled at the back of his neck. He glared up to his left, where the lizard strolled nonchalantly along the roofs of shops and offices.
"What were you doing?" he demanded. "That Pelipper wasn't doing anything to you. And besides, you don't just go around attacking things in public, it makes you look like some kind of barbaric monster! I don't want to have to give you up to the authorities because you stepped out of line and accidentally hurt a human-"
The Grovyle snorted, stomping furiously and shaking showers of water from the gutter. Terry glared, but the anger on his face melted away quickly. "Look…Azaira, what's gotten into you? I mean, yeah, I've been conducting losing battles lately…" He scratched the back of his neck and flushed lightly in shame. "…But…we could be a team…we could win! If-"
Azaira had already gone ahead, not listening to a word.
Terry stood there for what seemed like a very long time, staring at the retreating figure of his long-time partner. He did not respond to the click at his waist, the ripple of heat around him, and the sudden presence of a Flygon behind him.
"Riaaaaawwn," Sheer sighed. "Nyar ayaaaaow."
The increasingly familiar feeling of a heavy weight on Terry's mood made itself known again, and with a resigned air, he trudged on, trying to catch up with his very first Pokemon.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
The first thing Nathan Crier had ever thought about Samantha Leaf; "Sweet Moltres, that is a LOT of Pokemon."
The size of her team had almost doubled since then – what the girl lacked in power and skill, she made up for in sheer persistent numbers. Nathan had an amusing vision of her unsuspecting opponent being swarmed by a regiment of Sentret. Not so funny when it actually happened, and the opponent was Nathan himself.
She seemed to take everything in stride. Losses didn't bother her, mistakes were brushed away in an instant, the revelation that her newfound traveling companion and mentor was technically the Indigo League Champion and, since the disappearance of Hoenn's Champion, quite possibly the world's strongest Trainer quickly took second priority to the adorable trick her Meowth had just learned.
Sam was a bit of an enigma. At one moment she could be fawning over Nathan's apparently "hot" rival and claiming that cuteness was just as redeeming a feature as strength of will; the next she would be cheering with maniac intent as that demon-incarnate Charmander of hers burnt the scenery to a crisp. She still insisted that the damn thing was "adorable."
She still hadn't won a single match against Nathan, but somehow ran on the faith that she would beat him some day, just you wait. He would reply that perfection had a natural form in evolution, and she would in turn defend to the death her starter's right to stay small and cute forever.
And set things ablaze.
Nathan had never been happier about Champion's amnesty.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Run, run, run.
A flash of green, a flash of gold. Trees rustling, rippling, worry spreading.
Breaths come in gasps now – legs scream for rest, lungs scream for air. But to stop would mean death.
Strength born from nature, muscles rippling beneath furred legs. The pursuer has no such worries.
Tears fly back with the wind, wiped from eyes by the unceasing flight. The pursued will reap what she has sown.
A snarl from behind, a fiery roar. A gasp of pain as the flames meet flesh, charring skin. One falls.
All is silent, but for the ominous pawsteps of the hunter.
The golden one bares its teeth, hunger in its eyes. The jagged black streaks on its sides sink into obvious ribs. The beast is starving.
The human girl looks up, but there are no words. There never were any. Only tears.
And then the monster stops.
Its eyes have turned dull.
With a rasping exhalation, the golden beast slumps to the ground, its eyes sliding shut beneath a once-regal mane.
The girl is bound to her silence as always, but she reaches to her waist with shaking hands and clutches a red electronic device, pointing it at her fallen pursuer.
Arcanine, the screen reads. Rare alternate coloring detected on specimen.
DIAGNOSE, she punches in with trembling fingers.
Vital readings at zero. Specimen diagnosis: deceased.
She lets out a breath that is relieved and terrified at once. This chase is over, but more will come.
They will chase her down until it is taken; then they will hunt each other for its curse.
But she will not surrender it. Not until they have torn every bone from her body.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
The vision faded with the light leaking through the window, and Nathan's eyes squinted against the sun's stubborn rays. Finally he relented, stretching with a mumble and crawling out from under the sheets. A series of muffled thumps from the neighboring guest bedroom told him that Samantha was awake as well. He wondered for a moment whether or not to monopolize the bathroom before his companion could, sighing when he heard her dash across the hallway, slam the door, and start the shower. So much for being downstairs for breakfast by eight.
With nothing better to do, the boy meandered over to the window, leaning on the sill and watching the sunrise streak the sky with shades of rose and crimson. He tapped the bridge of his nose thoughtfully, glancing down at the chair to his left and the objects piled in its seat.
He pulled a thin, worn belt from the mess and tapped at one of the magnetic clasps, releasing the sphere that was held there. A skull-masked face glared up at Nathan evenly from under the translucent red top. With a sheepish smile, he flipped the sphere open.
A brown, scaled beast emerged, its eyes narrowed beneath the skull mask that was fused to its face. It pointed one clawed paw at Nathan, holding it there for a suspended moment, then dropped it with a drawn-out growl of exasperation.
"I know," Nathan groaned, "I messed up yesterday. Sorry. I'm sorry. There, I said it."
The Marowak's stony glare remained focused on the boy.
"I was out of it?" Nathan offered, gesturing at nothing in particular. "Hey, we won. So I goofed up, yeah, but we turned it right around-"
He was cut off suddenly as the small but heavy creature jumped at him, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he staggered backwards.
"M-Murdoc!" he sputtered, gasping for breath. "What was that…for…"
Murdoc cackled, grinning at his human companion with mischief in his eyes. He offered a paw to the fallen boy, helping him to his feet.
"Hah…yeah…real funny, man. Don't do that again." Nathan rubbed at his ribs gingerly, wincing. "I'm lucky you didn't break anything."
The Marowak chuckled, shrugged, picked up his bone weapon from the floor, and bowed deeply but playfully to Nathan, ignoring the scolding shake of the head that he received.
The door to Nathan's room creaked open, and something cream-colored and furry slunk in. The room's owner growled briefly at it, waving a hand at it to scare it off, but the feline stared at him quizzically before jumping onto his bed, purring and curling up on his pillow.
"Aw hell no-" Nathan spat, jumping up and throwing open the door. "SAM! GET THAT THING OFF OF MY BED!"
A brunette girl peered into the room, combing her damp hair. "What are you – ohhh, it's Aidan!" Her face lit up as she pocketed the comb and strolled over to the bed, kneeling down to scratch the Meowth between the ears.
"Get it out," Nathan grumbled, crossing his arms. "It needs to learn boundaries, just like a child of any species. There are some things it can't do, and one of those is coming into my room and shedding all over my stuff-"
"You're exaggerating, Nate," Samantha chirped, scooping Aidan up in her arms. "He just came in here because he loves you so much and wants to hang around with you…"
Nathan pointed soundlessly to the door. Sticking her tongue out at him, Samantha exited.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Something stirred in the shadows.
A click of claws on stone floors? Perhaps.
The statue still remained there. Its eyes still reflected a light that had never been cast; it still was flawless despite millennia of rest.
A gruesome reminder, it was. There still was a wrong that could never truly be purged from all things, no matter how many times they burned it all to the beginning. No matter how many times the clock shattered, the wind froze, still there was that lurking chaos.
As long as there was order...there would be something there to balance it. Was that not the very principle of order itself?
What an injustice it was. Chaos bound by the truths of order. And it hurt.
Pain, pain, pain, and the only way to end it...to return to the reality of chaos' form...yes.
Bring it all to the ground. Evil? Evil was the game of an arrogant master. There was no wrong. Only survival.
Chaos would survive.
