Special thanks to EkaSwede and nightdragon0, whose comments led to the inspiration for this chapter.
Betrayal
When the young Scyther set out that night, he knew he was about to attempt the riskiest, most insane mission of his life. But he knew what had to be done, and there wasn't the slightest doubt in his mind that he would pull it off; after all, he was used to attempting the impossible. It was what he was trained for. It was what he was known for.
In perfect silence, he perched in the branch of a tree, hiding in its shadows. Watching the ground below. Waiting for the perfect opportunity.
Since the day of his hatching, he'd endured the harshest of training by his clan, and in time, the elite ways of the warrior had become second nature to him. He learned that it wasn't enough to see, hear, and sense, but also to understand and to predict. He learned that everything, everything, meant something—the rustle of the leaves in the wind, the scent of the air, the angle of the moonlight as it filtered through the branches—and he learned to interpret and understand the meaning of every slightest signal received by his senses.
The rustle of the leaves, and the pattern in which they stirred, told him that he was safely downwind from his unsuspecting predators. The scent of the air told him that the night-guards were nearby, and would soon be returning on their patrol. The angle of the moonlight as it hit the forest floor below told him that he would have the first chance to see his opponents before he would be spotted himself. He knew that understanding one's own limits and perceptions was not nearly enough; the truly skilled must also understand the limits and perceptions of the enemy. That was the true secret to formulating superior strategy.
Of course, there was a time when the Scyther could recite word-for-word the eighteen rules of duel tactics, the four greatest mistakes when deceiving the enemy, and the most efficient ways to disable an opponent without killing them, just the way his sensei had taught. But theory was entirely lost to him now; all those words had simply melted away into a sort of all-encompassing instinct that dictated his every move in any given situation.
In fact, he was constantly surprised at the omniscience of the instinct which lived in him, hidden beneath the surface of his consciousness. He couldn't even begin to understand how it worked or how it had developed to such a high level, all he knew is that he could command his body to take action, and it would simply comply with such impressive responsiveness and precision that he wondered if a foreign spirit were actually taking over his body and making his moves and decisions for him.
At first, the Scyther considered this instinct as a foreign beast; an alien. But it grew to be his best friend, a friend who never let him down in any situation, a friend he could always trust. As he grew, the instinct enveloped his entire being. It became him. It defined him.
Down below, two Mightyena came into view. He knew the window of opportunity was upon him.
With the agility of a Grovyle, the Scyther nimbly leaped forward through the trees, leaving behind a sound no greater than that of the wind.
Although the natural gifts of speed and cunning were always intrinsic to the Scyther's race, his had somehow developed to a level far above and beyond all his brethren. His skills among his clan were unmatched, and he proved them time and time again in battle against his enemies. He had garnered a powerful respect even from the oldest and wisest of his elders. When the clan leader had chosen him as a successor, it was no surprise to anyone.
But it was never meant to be. Fate, it seemed, other plans for him. He was indeed bound to a destiny as great leader, but not nearly the kind of leader he or his brothers had expected…
The Scyther leaped and flew from tree to tree, careful not to emerge above the treetops lest the night-watchers of the sky catch sight of him. As the end of the forest drew closer, the Scyther found it harder to jump as the trees grew farther apart. He stopped once again to catch his breath and to wait for his chance to evade the next round of guards.
As he glared forward, letting his subconscious churn the information and determine the best route to continue, his consciousness had to ward off a few stinging thoughts.
I can't believe I'm doing this. After the years I spent escaping this place, I turn around and return in a week? Am I mad?
No, his instinct told him. This was not madness. He was doing the right thing, and he was the only Scyther among his clan who would even have a chance. He knew these grounds. He knew every tree and rock in this forest. He knew every stone in the castle's wall. He knew every hallway, path, and secret chamber in the castle. After all, he'd lived there for fourteen whole years under the service of the Master. During those years, he'd gained an intimidate knowledge of the stronghold's layout, and for only one purpose: so that one day, he'd be able to lay it all on the line and execute his masterfully-crafted escape plan.
And it worked. After three long, patient years of manipulating his surroundings into a window of opportunity, he fled the master. His escape was clean and flawless, just as he had planned, and he soon found himself miles away from the horrible place which had held him captive.
But when he escaped, he became faced with this difficult mission. He knew how the Master's forces worked, what halls they walked and what patterns they patrolled. He knew what kinds of Pokémon were stationed there, and how powerful they were. Only he had the skill and the knowledge of the Master's forces, and he had to do it alone.
When the Master's dark castle came into sight, the Scyther's mind was filled with awful memories of the things that he'd done while in the Master's command. He forced them back, trying to assure that his instincts had enough room to do their work, but they burned like torn scabs…
He remembered his youth. His foolish, ignorant youth, when he didn't understand who the Master was and what he stood for.
With his talents, the Scyther was a prime pick for the Master's servants. When he was chosen out of all his brothers to be one of the Master's high leaders, to be the commander of his troops, he considered it an honor and eagerly accepted. He was taken to the Master's castle, where he was presented to the generals and branded as one of the Master's own. From that point forth, he lead legions of Pokémon under the Master's orders with the same cunning precision and efficiency that had his clan had known him for. He was, indeed, one of the greatest of the leaders the Ambera region had ever known. His name became known to all; enemies would shudder and allies would bow down at its sound.
The Scyther was very proud of his work. He ruled over entire portions of Ambera, staving off anarchy and enforcing the Master's law. Day by day, he became more satisfied with the respect he received from his fellow commanders. As he gained more of the Master's trust, he felt his life gaining fulfillment. He was happy.
But then…
The Scyther gritted his teeth, feeling the most painful of memories ready to rush in and pounce from the shadows. He tried to focus all his concentration onto the task at hand, but the memories could not be held back. Like his powerful instincts, they, too, had become part of who he was. They, too, defined him.
As the Scyther grew older and more mature, he started to see the world with a new perspective. He began to open his eyes, recovering from the rush of power that had brainwashed him. He realized that some of the commands bestowed upon him by the Master didn't seem… right, somehow. The cities of Ambera were not being treated with respect. The thought occurred to him that the way the Master ruled over Ambera was not that of a wise, compassionate leader, but a sadistic, apathetic child. The Master appeared to bark out orders, not because he had a grand purpose behind them, but just because he could. It was not unlike how the Scyther reveled in his own command over the Master's army, gleefully ordering them around. He started to suspect the Master's true motives; maybe he was, at the very core, drunken by his own power…
So, the Scyther, even in his seat of authority, began to grow suspicious of his Master. Utilizing his powers of intuition and his manipulative nature, he determined that he would somehow, some way, learn the Master's motives for himself.
But he did not have to wait for long before the truth was revealed to him. Once again, he found that his instincts had been doing all the work for him all along, and he only had to wait and reap the rewards; for not long after the Scyther started his campaign to unravel the Master, his superiors approached him. They told him how the Master was very, very pleased with his work, and the Master had chosen him to become one of his closest, most-trusted Pokémon. They tempted him, telling him that he would share all of the Master's deepest secrets, that he would be counted as among the most elite and powerful Pokémon in the country. That he would rule from the Master's side as one of his second-in-command, as a privileged member of his council.
Naturally, he accepted…
And that's when he began to learn the horrifying truth.
The Scyther had traveled a long way in such a short amount of time. It was the only way to infiltrate the castle without being seen. Soon, he found himself standing before the great black brick wall that formed the circumference around the fortress. It was nearly twenty feet high, ensuring that no pesky ground-dwelling Pokémon would be able to get in. But with the power of flight, and the knowledge of which areas of the wall were watched more closely than others, it was barely an obstacle to him. He crept along the wall, hiding deep in the shadow cast by the moon, and found his entry point…
His sharpened instincts rendering him immune to fear and nervousness, he took a deep breath, opened his wings, and leapt up and over the wall in the blink of an eye as a cloud floated across the moon.
…And once again, he found himself in the place he knew so well, yet the last place on the face of the earth he ever wanted to be.
His entry had gone off without a hitch. He had not been spotted, and he had not triggered any of the traps. However, it was only the first of the challenges. He knew he was likely to meet some resistance along the way. Wasting no time on bitter memories, he dashed forward to the Master's castle.
As promised, all the Master's greatest secrets had been entrusted to him that day. Even the Master's nature and true identity, something that remained unknown to everyone but the closest of his followers, was revealed to him. It was something that not even his instincts had been able to predict…
And then he realized… not once had the Master made a move to help the people of Ambera.
Beneath it all, the Master was leaving Ambera to wither. To die.
All along, the Scyther hadn't been helping to rebuild Ambera. He'd been helping to destroy it.
"Anyone who opposes the Master or his great plan… will perish."
The words echoed through his mind as he crept through the castle's corridors.
"Anyone who questions the Master… will be slain."
The words… even his instincts, which always kept his mind at the peak of alertness and sanity, abhorred them…
"This… is your duty."
That was when the Scyther realized it. He was not hired as a servant. He was a slave. All of Ambera… were slaves.
"Every morning, you will get up…"
The Master saw his mind. His inexplicably brilliant mind, the mind that could analyze and understand and accomplish the impossible. The Master needed that mind to further his ends. It was the only way for him to be unstoppable.
"And you will watch over the country with your unblinking gaze…"
The Master, all along, was using him for his talent. He was not even a slave, but a tool. A mere tool.
"And you will find those who seek to defy the master…"
The Scyther grunted, trying desperately to cut off the awful memory…
"And eliminate them."
At that moment he heard those words, he knew it in his heart: he would escape the Master.
But he knew, deep within the bowls of the Master's ranks, it would be near impossible to escape him. He could not simply run. He would have to cover his tracks. He would have to evade and confuse those who would follow him. He needed to leave without betraying himself, without leaving the slightest hint of a trail or any other clues that could betray his plan.
It was a long three years, but his brilliant mind did not once let him down. One by one, every piece of his plan fell into place. Every deception was planted flawlessly into his surroundings…
But, for every inch closer he came to freedom, he had to carry out another one of the Master's horrible orders… under penalty of death. After all, failing to obey the Master meant that he was only becoming one of the very Pokémon he had been ordered to eliminate.
A rebel.
The Scyther's silence threatened to fail him as he crept through the dark halls of the castle. The memories were overpowering… And the remorse… It was stronger than he'd ever felt it before. He'd already spent many days beneath the sun, shedding all his tears for what he'd done, learning to harden himself to his past… But it all seemed null and void as he once again traversed through the Master's fortress.
He caused so much death…
So much blood had stained his silver blades…
So many innocent lives had been destroyed at his command…
And every night, he had to make the same decision.
Either he could defy the Master and die, never to take another innocent life…
…or he could keep going, in hopes that one day he could escape from the Master's grasp and cause more good than he had caused evil. To perhaps even bring the Master down by his own blades.
He knew he was probably making the wrong choice. He knew that the remorse might overpower him. But, every day, he made the same decision: he chose life. It was what his instincts told him to do.
And the day finally came when he escaped. On that day, as he fled, he no longer felt satisfied with himself. He did not cry out in joy. Instead, his flight was silent, solemn…
The Scyther who had been inducted into the Master's service so many years ago was different. Changed. Changed by violence, by oppression, by death…
When he returned to his clan, he was met with another horrifying discovery: upon noticing his absence, the Master's forces had come for a replacement. A fellow Scyther, the one who would have been the heir to the clan's head in his absence, had been kidnapped against his will and taken to serve the Master.
So, he told the clan to disperse, to flee from Ambera. It was the only way they for them be safe. Meanwhile, he knew it was time to start undoing all the evil he had caused. He knew what he had to do as his first mission.
"By Arceus, it's him!" a voice gasped.
The Scyther froze, noticing a Houndour who had been traversing the same hallway and snuck up on him from the shadows. It was frozen in shock.
"Mawile!" it cried. "Mawile! Send for he—"
-Slash!-
Without a second thought, the Scyther attacked, and the Houndour fell with a pained squeal. Behind him was the Mawile, already running away, its huge jaw-like protrusion gnashing at him.
-Slash!-
And the Mawile's body fell as well, its huge jaws hitting the floor a couple feet away. It writhed on the floor in agony, clutching at the stump atop its head.
The Scyther knew that the attack had not been a silent one, and could already hear several crying voices down the hall and the sound of footsteps scuffling in indistinguishable directions. It would not be long before his presence was made known to the entire fortress. He knew that it was impossible to remain hidden the entire way, but now, he had to hurry to put his plan into motion.
He dashed forward as fast as his legs could carry him, opening his wings to propel at an even greater speed. Fast as he was, though, he could not outrun some of the Pokémon that attacked. A Kadabra, hearing the cries, attempted to block the hallway. The Scyther tackled it, slashing against its psychic barriers until they were pierced and he could knock it away. A Quilava latched onto the Scyther's shoulder, and he spun to throw it off moments before it could singe his head with a burst of fire. A Cubone swung its weapon and hit him squarely in the forehead, but he slashed back, unfazed, and put a bloody gash across its chest.
Once past the group of Pokémon in his way, the Scyther fled on down the hall. He could hear them screaming curses to the legendary dragons about his re-appearance as they hurried after him and barked orders to put the fortress on high alert.
All according to plan so far…
With the Pokémon hot on his tail, especially the quadrupedal creatures, he ducked around a corner, down a flight of stairs, through a doorway. Slamming the wooden door behind him and nudging the lock into place, he took a moment to catch his breath.
The room was a small, cramped one, like an empty closet…
-Boom-
The Pokémon pounded at the door.
"He's in here!"
"PUSH!"
"We've got him!"
"Nobody will believe this!"
"HARDER!"
-BOOM-
The door's hinges creaked. It wobbled weakly on its lock..
"EVERYONE AT ONCE! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
-SLAM!-
The door fell down, and several Pokémon poured into the room, all on guard to take down the famed hero-turned-fugitive that had inexplicably returned.
But the Scyther was no longer in the room.
"Of COURSE!" the Kadabra said. "Look! The hole in the ceiling! He took the secret passage. Quickly! Cut him off on the other side!"
So far, so good, the Scyther told himself as he dropped into a completely deserted room.
Indeed, his grand entrance had gone just as could be expected. Everyone and their brothers knew about the secret passage in the old water closet, but nobody seemed to know about the secret passage within the secret passage that lead all the way to the training room on the opposite side of the complex. So, while the entire base went on high alert and legions upon legions of Pokémon were most likely crowding around in the armory waiting for him to emerge, he found himself completely alone. It was a perfect distraction.
With just enough luck, it would give him all the time he needed to get down to the holding cells…
Almost there, he told himself, looking back up at the trapdoor in the ceiling to see if he could hear if anyone had followed him. Just… a little further, and this madness… will be over…
Mustering his energy one more time, the Scyther prepared to leave the room…
… but there, standing at the door of the room, was the silhouette of a creature he didn't expect to see.
"Adron…?"
The Scyther winced at the sound of his name. Worry mounted in his heart as the creature took a few steps forward, revealing itself in the torchlight of the training chamber. Its body was about the same size as his, but covered in a shining, red carapace…
It was a Scizor.
"Adiel?" gasped Adron, trying to calm his surprised heart. "Is that… you?"
The Scizor calmly took a few steps forward, squinting in the poor light of the room.
"Adiel… You… sacrificed your blades!" Adron growled in disappointment. "You have forsaken the code of the Adrellos… is this what it has come to?"
"I have become stronger," Adiel said simply. "I've always wondered what it would be like to be as strong as you. Now, I finally know. But… I… I cannot bring myself to believe that you're here. Why are you here? After such a spectacular vanishing act, you've returned?"
"Adiel," the Scyther said, shaking its head to orient itself. "I expected you to be in the holding cells. I don't know what you're doing here, but… If I am to rescue you, we've got to act quickly and flawlessly. There cannot afford to be a single mistake. I have it all planned-"
The Scyther found himself interrupted by the sound of an amused laugh. The Scizor stepped closer to him, their gazes burning into one another.
"Is this why you came back?" Adiel chuckled. "To 'rescue' me? Why do you think I need rescuing?"
"Adiel, you don't understand," Adron growled, growing uncomfortable. "The Master… he's… a monster. To serve him is the greatest curse in all the world… I do not want to doom a clanmate to that fate, no matter how dangerous it may be."
Looking oddly at the Scyther, Adiel stepped to his side, inspecting him from a different angle. The Scyther kept his gaze locked the Scizor's.
"Listen, we've got to get out of here," Adron said again. "My diversion won't last long enough for chatter. We can talk later."
"It looks to me like you're the one who needs to get out of here," Adiel said oddly. "I'm a servant of the Master now. I have accepted my fate. I don't intend to leave. And besides, that wasn't a very good diversion. They told me you were climbing through the secret passage. By secret, I assumed they meant the one that wasn't known to everybody and their brother."
Adron's heart beat a lot faster now. He felt his fight-or-flight instincts rousing within him, but he wasn't done yet.
"Honestly, I don't understand why you gave up when you did," Adiel said. "This is a glorious position of power. I spent my entire childhood thinking that my training would never amount to anything useful. I thought that my future was to command the clan… but now, here, I have an entire army to command… Just like you…"
"They… replaced me… with you?" Adron asked, surprised.
"They knew how powerful you were," Adiel said. "You left a pretty gaping job opening when you left, you know that? They needed someone of equal skill to fill the void. Of equal upbringing and credentials. Yes, they took me against my will, they held me down when I struggled, but then… they imbued me with this power… they made me a Scizor…"
The Scyther seethed. He couldn't believe it. His own clanmate was following the very same path he had. He was becoming drunk with power.
"Adron…" the Scizor said, "I renounce my status among the Adrellos. I'm happy where I stand. This is my true purpose in life. If you want to live, you should leave."
"No!" Adron screeched at the top of his lungs and whirled around, causing the Scizor to jump back. "I am not leaving you here to suffer! You do not understand, Adiel! The Master isn't… he isn't… what he seems! He's… a devil! A monster! Nothing matters to him. He will just use you for his own… amusement. He only wants to use you like a tool! Like a… scythe to cut down his grass. Is that the life you want, Adiel?"
"I still don't understand. Why should the scythe be unhappy that it is fulfilling its one true purpose?"
Adron pounced at the Scizor with blinding speed, slamming him against the nearest wall and looking straight into his eyes. The Scizor's eyes were indifferent. Complacent.
"Adiel, they told me things," the Scyther said with a raspy, desperate voice. "They made me one of their most trusted. They told me things! They told me of the Master's greatest plan... They told me all his secrets… If they tell you, Adiel, they will not set you free. They will bind you! They will bind you to slavery and misery and pain for the rest of your days! The Master… is not what he seems!"
The Scizor forced him off, but he stood still against the wall. Through it all, the Scizor continued to remain calm and collected, much to Adron's dismay.
"I know his secrets," Adiel said. "They already told me."
Adron reeled back, as if hit with a powerful blow to the chest.
"They… already told you."
"Yes," Adiel said. "I became part of the council the day I became a Scizor. I made my vow. They revealed everything to me."
"But… how…" The Scyther gasped. "It took them years to trust me… why you…?"
"The Master was desperate. He needed a replacement for you as fast as possible. I simply gave my word to remain loyal… and I was in."
"So… you… you know?" Adron said, now having to strain the words from his throat.
"I know everything," Adiel said. "And I still don't understand what your whole uproar is about. I'm happy to comply with the Master."
"You are happy with tearing Ambera down by its threads?! You are happy being a weapon of slaughter?!" Adron demanded.
"I am happy building the Master's kingdom," he replied simply. "Those with power are the ones who can choose the fate of the world."
The Scyther still could not believe his ears. His clanmate was truly betraying him. And, it was not by a strong sense of determination that he spoke, but only because he did not know any better. He was like a child. He was like an indoctrinated little child, like a trained little animal, raised by the way of the warrior and taught that power is meant to be used.
There was no changing his mind.
And if he tried further, there was no guarantee he would escape from this castle a second time.
"You want to know why I resisted?" The Scyther growled bitterly. "Because my instincts told me to. They wouldn't let me further my horrible purpose."
"Really? Is that it?" Adiel said. "Knowing you, I was expecting something more… complex. But… are you really so weak-willed, my brother, that you cannot resist the simple cries of your instincts?"
"WHO among us is the weak-willed?!" The Scyther snapped violently. "You are the one who can't resist the weight of your power. I was the one who resisted my fate! I was the one who fought and changed my future. And tonight, I was willing to do the same for you. I didn't want to see you fall prey to the Master's schemes. As a friend, I couldn't bear to let that happen."
"You are making less and less sense every minute," Adiel said. "I am no prey. I am the predator. You are the one who chose to become the prey."
Adron's instincts were unbearable now. Go, they said. Your window is closing! You will be trapped! GO!
The Scyther looked reluctantly at the door, then at the Scizor.
"Besides, you were the one who betrayed the Master," Adiel accused, his calm, gentle voice gradually gaining a sharp edge. "He trusted you with his secrets, and you walked out on him. You now must live with what you have done. How can you tell me that you do not want me to suffer the same fate as you? Are you not here, trying to convince me to betray the Master as well? No, Adron. I will not suffer the same fate as you. I will stay here and serve."
Adron did not reply. His mind was screaming at him so loudly now…
"But now, look at you," Adiel said. "Will you be able to keep the Master's secret within you for the rest of your days? Or will it burn you alive from the inside?"
"I will keep the secret," Adron growled. "I have to. There's no other choice."
"You can say that now, but ten years from now?" Adiel said pointedly. "You, who can hardly fight his own instincts… how can you live with something so powerful tugging at you from the inside? But you understand that if you were to let it out, you, and the rest of Ambera, would perish…"
"Yes," Adron responded quietly. "And so would you."
Adron felt the subtle shake of the ground as forces moved about the base. He took a step towards the door.
"They will order me to slay you," Adiel warned. "You are a traitor. If you value your life, you should leave Ambera. I will stop at nothing to hunt you and cut you down."
"Never," Adron solemnly proclaimed. "Not until I have seen the Master fall from this throne that we have all elevated him onto. I will oppose."
"So be it," Adiel said. "But, you know what this means. The next time we meet… you will be the prey."
"No," Adron said powerfully. "I will be the fellow predator who protects your prey. From now on, Ambera is my garden. I will take it from the Master and sow the seeds of a new age. I will be the one to protect it and watch it grow, untouched by the Master's evil hands."
Adron heard voices now. The guards were coming to inspect this part of the castle. Shamefully, regretfully, angrily, he stepped to the door.
Taking one last glance at his old companion, he uttered his final words…
"And if you try to harm it, I will be the scythe that will cut you down."
In the blink of an eye, the Scyther was gone.
Adiel had been right. The secret had burned. It burned a hole straight through his heart, and it did not stop there. It burned his entire being until it left him numb.
Like the memories, the secret had become an inseparable part of him. It defined him.
So much had changed since then. The Scyther had discovered the great resistance, something that changed him and gave him a brand new beginning. Adron was dead, replaced with a new Scyther that sought only to keep his promises and to undo the horrible deeds that the mighty Adron had once committed. A Scyther that played the role of wise leader to his faithful team of friends. A Scyther that kept no secrets from anyone.
…except for one, a secret he even wished he could keep from himself.
But, as he sat awake in his own personal chamber deep beneath the surface of the earth, hidden away in a place that not even the Master saw…
As he glanced at the Charmander, the Bulbasaur, and now the Raichu that slept peacefully in the far corner…
He knew the time was coming when the great, burning secret might finally be unleashed onto the world.
The Charmander…
…the human…
…had changed everything.