"I refuse to submit to you."
Adron lurked in the lair for fourteen days after the incident, but the shame grew to be too much. He could no longer look his fellows in the eye. He no longer hunted, trained, or sparred with them. He became ashamed of even taking food from the rest of the clan, knowing that what he had become was no greater than a wild animal.
After those fourteen days, when Adron could not bear another pitiful visit from one of his brothers, he knew he had to leave. He had to find a place to be alone with the voices in his head, far away from the Adrellos or any of his brothers. He could not be a burden to them anymore.
Go. Leave. Stop bringing this pain.
So, one quiet evening, he dragged himself out from the dark, comfortable safety of the den, and wandered through the branching paths of the Shattered Plateau. He knew not where he would go. The wild was no place for him; living among the feral animals of the wilderness without even the ability to raise a blade and defend himself was a suicidal concept. But waiting until the Adrellos denied him shelter for his incapability would be more dishonor than he could bear to live with. So, he wandered the dark paths, trying to find a place somewhere between the two fates.
He found a secluded ditch on the very south-eastern corner of the plateau, a place swarming with enough of the little purple rats to sustain him, and he buried himself there, where no other Scyther could find him.
And each day when he opened his eyes and found himself still existing in the world beyond his meaningless dreams, his will burned more deeply in his core—that he would not accept the fate that had been dealt to him.
I am Adron, a Scyther. I serve myself; I am no longer worthy of serving the Adrellos.
I have hidden myself in a place where my presence will not burden them.
My purpose… is to overcome this!
I am not content with only living!
I will not be a helpless creature; I am a warrior!
He began a tradition of speaking to his unstoppable thoughts as though they were another separate entity inside of him. They would never respond, but he spoke to them anyway.
"I refuse to submit…" he growled weakly, sitting in the ditch amidst a pile of some rat carcasses he'd accumulated. "I… I… won't lie here… I will… I will fight you…"
He spoke it time and time again, but the words always seemed meaningless, no matter how much conviction he put behind them. He wanted to believe that if he said them enough times, they would hold enough power to disrupt the daydreams.
"I will find the power to overcome you…" Adron said to himself, with what was now a daily mantra. "I will take my place among the Adrellos… I will destroy you the way you've destroyed me."
After finishing his self-orientation, Adron convinced his body to move. He rose from the fissure in the ground and came to stand, alone, among the craggy towers that provided him shelter from the wilderness outside. To the east, a cloud of darkness steadily rolled in: nighttime. He could no longer control when he slept and when he rose, but it was inconsequential to him. He only cared about controlling the oblivious spirit which roosted in his mind; if he could not control it, nothing else mattered.
He began another of his daily routines: training.
He knew not how to fight. He knew not how enemies would react to his movements. All he knew now was that he was a violent creature by nature, that he commanded two metal blades embedded into his arms, both of which were sharp enough to slice through flesh and bone, and that fighting most certainly involved hitting things with them.
So that's what he practiced: hitting things with them. There was no rhythm, no strategy, no complicated maneuvers, nothing that would confuse him… just simple, desperate blows to the rocky walls and pillars surrounding his hiding place. It was all he could do. He didn't know if it helped him, but he needed to do it. He needed to exert this feeble little measure of authority over his insanity.
*Clang!* *Clang!*
After twenty days of this, it already began to look as though fifty battles had taken place in this tiny little section of the plateau. Patterns of scratch marks, as if from lion claws, painted the stone surfaces. Some of the pillars were becoming whittled down, just like a tree would look after the dam-building rodents sharpened their teeth on it. More and more, his new home came to resemble the inside of his own mind as he struggled for freedom from it.
*Clang!*
And this evening, as he slammed a boulder and whittled down the sharpness of his blades, he thought to converse with the chaos. Learning to speak coherently again had been such a frustrating process; once he had discovered how to string some thoughts into decent patterns, he had always enjoyed taunting the disruption in his head with his own words and pretending he was irritating it back.
"What do you want of me?" he grunted, expecting a response. "What do you expect me to do for you?"
*Clang!*
"What would you take from me that you haven't already taken?!"
*Clang!* *Clang!*
"Such a complex beast you are, but I can't understand your language!"
*Clang!*
"What language do you speak?"
*Clang!*
"Can't we be brothers? Can't we serve one another?!"
*Clang!* *Clang!* *Clang!*
"We could gain power, if only you'd listen to me! Why don't you listen? Why can't we forge an alliance?"
*Clack!*
Already beginning to tire in frustration, Adron gave one last lunge to the boulder before leaning against it, succumbing to the mental disturbance and feeling his weakening will to keep trying. His words were useless, like they always had been. Yet he kept spouting them, over and over, as if to expect a different result from them whenever he'd try. Though he rose each day with a resolute heart, the days always ended in despair, shattered hopes, and the cold reality of his condition: it was permanent. Nothing he could do would change it.
Trust is complicated and fleeting; fear is absolute. Every other creature must learn to fear the sound of our name.
He blinked.
As his thoughts spun, they presented him with a line from the code he knew so well. It hung in his mind for a moment, pulsing with significance, as though the otherworldly creature in his head wanted him to see it.
He blinked again. It was a fleeting sensation, but for once, a thought had made clear sense.
Trust?
And he had an idea.
… … …
"Maybe I know the language you speak, beast!" Adron roared at himself. "Maybe I know it all too well, the most primal instinct in every creature… And now, we will see if you speak!"
Adron stood far above the Shattered Plateau, upon the very highest of the broken rock towers his eyes could catch. It had been a strenuous fight, with many stops to rest on the ledges and footholds, so he knelt down and again regained his breath as he surveyed the landscape below.
The vertigo hit him immediately. It was a very long way down.
He witnessed the Shattered Plateau in all its glory, noticing all the parts which had crumbled among those which still stood, like a giant death trap of spikes. He saw the gorgeous visage of the meadows, forests, and winding streams in the distance, all soaked in that deep, dark, shadowy red of twilight as the sun set far behind him. Tears almost formed in his eyes from the pure beauty of it. He knew now that this was the war field, and tonight, he would attack.
Finally, he gazed straight down to the base of the tall rocky tower. It was surrounded in avalanched rocks and pebbles of all sorts.
He knew he would not survive a fall. And he knew, even if he tried, that his feeble wings had no chance of saving him if he fell too far—he'd be unable to slow down his momentum in time. His body would simply shatter upon contact with the uneven landscape.
He imagined what it would feel like.
"See!" he gasped to no one but himself. "Look before yourself, and see!"
The cold breeze whipped at his face. He ignored it, staring down at the ground.
"You don't speak the language of trust. Do you speak the language of fear?"
His mind ignored every word, but he persisted.
"I am a warrior, beast! If I cannot live without you stirring my thoughts, mixing my concentration, driving me away from my brothers… I will not live!"
Adron raised his voice, screaming to the heavens. His gasping became hysterical.
"I will leap!" he cried, his voice echoing through the canyons down below. "It is not enough to live! If you do not speak to me, I will leap, and end both our lives!"
Again, nothing.
"SPEAK!" he demanded. "Do you not see those rocks down below?! Our lives will end there! And do you not see the resolve in my mind?! Do you not believe me, beast? I will leap! I will not hesitate! I will leap!"
After the echo of his voice reverberated from the distant surfaces and faded away, his mind still did not respond to his pleas. Still, it constantly flowed past like the wind which swept over him.
"You have TAKEN EVERYTHING!" he bellowed, a desperate plea. "You've taken my pride! My brothers! My power! You've left me with nothing! Nothing, but this choice! This last bit of control I have over myself, the power to end my own life! Is this what you want?! LISTEN! RESPOND! ANSWER!"
Dizziness clouded his vision from breathing so heavily, and his sense of balance faltered as the world wobbled and spun around him. His throat became sore from screaming. Tears covered his face. Through it all, there was still no response from his fleeting mind. It didn't hear. It didn't care. Its defenses were rock-solid, oblivious to the world around him.
Broken. Wounded.
Adron slumped down upon the tiny surface so high in the air, bowing his head in defeat. It was over. Everything was over. All his effort… it meant nothing. He could not fight. He could not think. He could no longer comprehend anything but the simplest ideas. He could no longer strive for power, as the code commanded, or use that power if by chance he obtained it by luck. He cursed the Watcher. So evil, so pitiless it had been, for poisoning his head.
There was nothing left. Nothing left… but to follow through with the threat he had made.
He shifted his legs, coiling them for power. He anchored the tips of his blades against the rock.
"Fine… then…" he gasped through his teeth, trembling in fear. "So… BE IT!"
He squeezed his eyes shut. He had no regrets.
With one final gasp for air, Adron thrust his body and pounced into the sky, leaving the tower behind him and letting the pummeling air drown out his thoughts.
But he stopped moving.
Adron's eyes snapped open. He hung in the air against his will, having only fallen one or two body heights. Mixing with the wind, there was now an incessant, yet familiar buzzing noise.
He looked back, though he already knew it to be true. His wings were buzzing, keeping him aloft.
They were running against his will.
Puzzled, he wondered what had happened. When he chose to jump, he had not intended to fly. He had intended to die. His wings had opened all by themselves.
And that's when he noticed it…
Order.
Though his wings grew so tired from treading air, he hovered in place, simply astounded at himself. The voice in his head had not quieted, but it had sorted itself into an order! Order to his thoughts was now such a foreign concept to him, he couldn't comprehend it. His subconscious thoughts, which had once bounced around from idea to idea with no regard to meaning, now screamed the same feeling over and over:
Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive.
"Ah hah hah hah," Adron laughed wickedly, insanely, thrashing at the empty air. "Ah hah hah hah hah hah! So… so you would also… heh heh… take this last choice away!"
It was such a simple, instinctual reaction. The will to live. The aversion to terminating one's own life. It had happened purely by reflex. Yet, it was a concept his chaotic mind understood. It was a language it spoke after all, a language it had responded to. And now, he had found such a simple way to put his rampant impulses into a predictable order… For just a moment, he could focus! He could dwell on thoughts! He laughed again, mocking the stupidity of it all, the simplicity of it all, until he grew close to passing out from hyperventilation and exhaustion.
And he found, to his delight, when his thoughts were in order, they were so clear! Since the barrier to his underlying mind was broken away, he could see all of his thoughts, and the way they connected to one another, as clearly as the clouds in the sky. They were all laid out before him, like a legion of servants, cowering in fear of the imminent death he would had caused himself.
"Now, then!" he laughed triumphantly to nobody but himself. "While I have your attention, listen to what I say! I know you're just a swarming flock of feelings that doesn't want to obey me. That's fine! Because I tried to control you for over thirty days and it's obvious I can't. So, I'm not going to try anymore. No, I'm going to fall back and let you do everything for me! Just like Sensei Adram wanted me to do for him! I'm going to train you, and then you're going to guide me, but you're going to let me make the decisions. I will learn to understand you. And you will learn to obey my command. We will learn to cooperate, even if… even if it kills us! Because if you continue to disobey me, I can assure you, heh heh heh… it will!"
As his wings were flitting awkwardly and starting to fail him, Adron thrust himself back up to the top of the platform and collapsed. Immediately, his thoughts changed to chant something else for a few moments:
Safe. Safe. Safe. Safe.
When his safety was established, the wild beast in his mind resumed its rounds, scattering into chaos and confusion again. But through it, Adron grinned. A crazy kind of joy now filled him. He knew he had leverage over the raw force. He knew he had a way of controlling it.
He knew there was hope.
But as he lounged atop the towering pillar, dreading the flight back down, he felt the now-familiar helplessness return in full force. And as he watched his memories flash back to battles and weather patterns and other Scyther and more battles, he had to wonder...
…would the hope be good enough?
… … …
A family of Piloswine wandered across a frostbitten, early-morning meadow. They were migrating south for the cold season, where food became easier to find. They were oblivious to the two Scyther who waited inside of a creek bed, eying them…
"Now watch," sensei Adram whispered to his student. "What do you see?"
Adiel squinted at the lazy gathering of swine, watching as they plodded south like leaves slowly floating downstream on the surface of a river. He knew any Scyther could kill one of these easily, but that was not the challenge—the challenge, now, was to follow the code. Strike without being seen, and kill without being heard. He had to figure out a way to perform the deed as invisibly as the wind, without even the acknowledgement of the rest of the heard. This was one of the most difficult lessons the Scyther children were taught in their final months of training, and one of the most important to carry into the battlefield: the secrets of true stealth.
"They turn, occasionally, to the northeast," he answered. "I need to time it—"
"No," Adram grumbled. "This isn't complicated."
"Their hair tends to cover their eyes," Adiel tried. "They would have difficulty looking up. I might fly."
"You might, but you are still over-thinking," Adram replied. "Sneaking up on every type of creature is a different puzzle, but with these creatures, it's hardly a challenge at all."
Adiel shook his head. "What do you mean? If you want me to kill them without them seeing me, I need to make sure they don't see me. Why isn't that important?"
"Think, Adiel," Adram told him. "Stealth is not always about not being seen. But more often than not, it is about not being seen as a threat."
"I'll approach gently, then," Adiel said with a grin, understanding the point. "These creatures come from the north caves, where Scyther don't live. They don't know what I am. They might not judge me as a predator. So if I don't act like a predator…"
"You may gain their trust," Adram said, "only to betray it when one wanders too close to you."
*Splash!*
A large object had been plunged into the stream behind the two Scyther, startling them both. Nearby birds scattered. The swine all moaned in surprise and started to wander off.
Adram had barely taken a breath before he had snapped around and pounced upon the intrusion, his survival instincts still as sharp as ever in his old age. He'd expected it to have been a high-flying bird of prey swooping to claw at a fish. He did not expect to be staring another Scyther in the eye. And he expected least of all that it would be this Scyther.
"Adron?!" he gasped, immediately releasing the intruder from his instinctual death-grip, dropping him back into the shallow stream. "Adron, what is your business? You've interrupted my training session and given away our position!"
"I'm here… to keep my appointment," Adron answered in an intense voice. "It's been thirty-six days since I last trained with you. The agreement was you and I, every eighteen days, would train. I'm sorry I missed the last appointment, I'm here now."
"It is you!" Adiel cried. "Rumors spread that you were lost in the wild! I know, because I started them! What happened to you?!"
"And what gives you the idea it's acceptable to interrupt your brothers' training?" Adram growled. "Has your mild healed? Obviously, it has not, since you had the gall to disrupt our hunting effort! I thought I told you clearly: if your mind will not heal, I no longer have business training you!"
"Don't… talk to me about things becoming… disrupted," Adron growled back. "No… my mind is the same. But, with some practice, I am learning to cope. And you, sensei… You must live up to our agreement. You say… you don't have the time to train me from infancy. But you still can train me according to our schedule."
"And what, then, do you expect me to accomplish?" Adram seethed, standing Adron down and glaring at him.
"Battle me," Adron replied. "And try to kill me."
Appalled, Adram thrust his blades against the little one's chest, sending him splashing back into the creek water. He did not fall. "Adron, how confused are you?" he laughed. "You are unarmed… and you want for me to kill you? Even though I would not even concede to it in the days you were thinking clearly?"
"Yes," the little one answered without hesitation. "Otherwise… I will not learn."
The elder tilted his head for a moment, his irritation bleeding through his eyes. Then, without warning, he stepped closer to Adron and launched an assault upon him.
Wham! A forceful blow to the head. Wham! Another one to the side. Clank! Clank! Two blows which Adron managed to parry. And finally, the most ridiculous of attacks, a blunt slamming of his foot to the chest. Adron gasped, collapsing onto his back against the creek bed's rocks.
"Adron, leave my sight," Adram ordered, shaking his head in shame. "Come with me, Adiel, we will find somewhere else to train."
Adiel stood for a moment, staring his old companion in the eye and feeling a small measure of sympathy. "It is good to know that your spirit, at least, isn't gone," he said simply before turning to follow.
Adron winced as he tried to climb off the pile of rocks without irritating the sensitive scrapes they had caused in his abdomen.
It's a start, he told himself. Yes… a start. This is going to be painful. Now… who else would listen to the demands of an insane Scyther?
… … …
"I don't fight cowards," the other Scyther called out sneeringly, turning to concentrate on finishing the green berry skewered at the end of her blade.
Adron peered into the food cache and at the one Scyther who currently occupied it: Alwry. She was always an aggressive, unfriendly girl. She seemed to make a living of defying the alpha hatchlings and standing up to them, and pushing around the weaker ones. She had never been liked by many, except those she had agreed not to abuse if they would be her companions. She'd gotten into disagreements with Adron too many times to count, and Adron hoped that he might spark another one today…
"You know, your stealth is awful," she teased again. "Come out where I can see you, coward."
Adron hissed silently at himself. She'd always been an observant one, too, just like he was. He stepped out from behind the rock, showing himself in a beam of sunlight.
Alwry gave a flippant glance to the intruder, but then had a spasm of surprise when she realized his identity. Composing herself just as quickly, she flung the remains of the berry away and came to confront him.
"Am I a coward," Adron responded, "because I came back?"
"You!" she gasped. "Where have you been?! Adiel told me you were eaten by a lion, but I knew better than to believe that. What's your excuse for disappearing? There's no spare food for any of us! Nobody will hunt because they thought you're dead!"
"None of your business, where I've been," Adron answered. "But I came here to fight you."
"Gladly," Alwry said wryly, a smirk cracking her face. "Let me tell you, Adarc is an awful rival. I don't know how you ever put up with him, but half the time I have to teach him how to fight me. It's been embarrassing. I miss having a good enemy. So… what will be the terms of this fight?"
"I win if I make you surrender," Adron announced to her. "You win if you kill me."
Alwry staggered. "Kill you? You want a true duel?!" she yelped. "I see. You're hungry for a challenge? I accept the terms of victory! What about the stakes?"
"No stakes," Adron answered with his own smile, "but the pride of being superior."
Adron braced himself as Alwry opened the battle, a reckless charge. He raised his blades at the last moment to parry the strike, causing the familiar sound of clashing steel to ring down through the rocky halls. For a few seconds, her blades forcefully stayed locked against his, trying to force him back and fall from his feet.
Adron saw the gleam in her eye, and knew she was honest about the challenge. He waited for her to make the next move.
She spun her body and ducked, a very skillful move, slamming his knee with the open blade. Adron groaned in pain, the blow glancing from the hard bony armor but feeling like it had severed his leg right off in the process. He buckled under the blow, jumping back to retreat. His leg stung, and he felt his stance unreliable. A moment later, his wings buzzed and he took to the air,
"What is this, Adron?" Alwry questioned. "You ask me to kill you, then you just retreat and don't fight back?"
"Fine… then…" he answered.
He tried to narrow his thoughts, searching for a striking opportunity. He zipped into a dive, blades drawn…
Where, his mind wondered. Where do I strike?
Before he knew it, he'd been countered. Alwry guessed his attack and disarmed his blades with her own, flinging her assailant around her body and sending him skidding across the floor.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha," she laughed cockily. "What was that?!"
Adron answered by picking himself up quickly and pouncing again.
Focus! he told himself. Please, just for once, focus!
He tried to lazily lob his blades onto her left shoulder, which looked open. But she was an observant one, easily sidestepping the attack and thrusting him to the side, sending him tumbling away again.
This time, Alwry followed by leaping onto Adron's fallen form, pinning him down with her huge foot and leveling her blade with his neck.
"I didn't expect I'd actually get the opportunity to kill you, Adron," Alwry uttered, holding him still under her weight. "You were so confident, I thought you would beat me. Did you just wake up? Or…"
Alwry hesitated.
"You're insane," she realized. "That's what this is? Challenging me to kill you? You're mad, aren't you?"
"Ughhh…" he groaned, struggling against her force but being unable to even lift his chest from the floor.
"You never recovered," she said, growing angry. "That problem you had last month. You never recovered from it! That's what this is. And you want me to train you now? Is that it?"
She released him from the hold, only to kick him harshly in the side in anger.
"I surrender," she spat. "Enjoy your pride of superiority. You're going to need it. You fight like an infant!"
She stormed out, leaving him laying there. He turned to lift himself, feeling
I disappoint everyone, Adron said to himself. But… this is the only way I will learn again… isn't it?
… … …
Adron tried to duel with more hatchlings, but the result was mostly the same: he could not battle. He could not think quickly. He'd gotten a few hits off Adreu, one of the youngest, but even Adreu could outmaneuver and outsmart him without much effort. He had hope, now… but that's all that had changed. His mind was still as much of a disaster as before.
After his unsuccessful battles, Adron returned in the evening to lie in his ditch and think about what he had learned—or even if he had learned anything at all. He knew he'd gotten reckless and desperate with the discovery of his new hope, but still didn't know what he could do with it. Kicking shattered rats away, he turned his body to stare at the dark wall, and at all the images which flashed upon it. He tried to appraise them, wondering if there was any sort of sign his battles had changed them, as a headache throbbed in his forehead.
His will, this time, was steadfast; he had seen how his thoughts reacted to the brink of death. He had seen it in the battle with Alwry, and again in the battle with Adezl. He knew this problem could be broken, and he was not going to give up. But he knew he had to rethink his method.
It is just as Alwry said, Adron reflected. I'm insane, telling any Scyther I meet to kill me… It hasn't been working, but it's the only thought I could follow. There must be… some other way…
"Adron!"
His body convulsed in surprise as a voice screamed his name from somewhere nearby. He was scared; he knew he couldn't defend himself on such a short notice. He stirred and turned to look up outside, wondering who could have been searching these grounds for him.
An amused Adarc peered back down at him.
"Adron, you look like a feral!" he commented. "So this is where you've been all this time… Hah, I knew Adiel was lying…"
"How did you find me?" Adron wondered weakly, trying to crawl out of the ditch.
"Just followed you here," he answered. "Today was the first time I saw you back at the den grounds in a long time, and I wanted to know where you've been hiding… It didn't look like you detected me… Are you recovering? How's your mind?"
"Why… do you care?" Adron growled, climbing up and standing on his feet. He tried to ignore his headache.
"Because I'm proud of rivaling you," he answered, lowering his voice. "It hasn't been fun with you missing. I miss always wondering if you're spying on me. I've tried rivaling Alwry, but her skills are just so poor… she's not up to your level. If I can help you heal…"
Adron looked away. "No… my mind isn't healing," he replied. "But… I've been learning to cope. I can speak now at least. I couldn't tell a story or anything, but… at least I can say what I mean. I still… can't battle. But I'm trying to learn. I think I… found a way. But it's hard... that's why I was back with the clan."
"You want to find opponents because you can't fight with the sensei anymore?" Adarc guessed. "You're trying to practice?"
Adron shook his head, and he grasped for a more complex idea that seemed to be hanging in front of him. "Imagine…" he tried. "When you need to train a beast, you feed it when it obeys you, and you harm it when it disobeys you. That's how it learns. My mind is like that. It's like a wild beast that won't listen, always distracting me. Only… instead of… doing that, it will only learn if I threaten to kill it. So, I think I can learn to fight again if… my opponent means to kill me."
"Seems like a contradiction… you can't fight anything stronger than a purple rat, but you need your opponent to kill you?"
"It's difficult," Adron admitted. "I still don't know… What I tried today was stupid of me. I'm embarrassed. I should go into the wild. I could train there, the same way the ferals are trained… but I'm afraid."
Adarc glanced around the rocks with a wary eye, as if to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Then, he stepped close to Adron and spoke in a quiet voice.
"I'll help you," he said a second time. "Sensei Adram doesn't want a word spoken of you. And everyone is saying you're insane."
"Why?" Adron hissed. "Why help me? The Adrellos wouldn't accept me now. If I learn to fight again, I might reach the skills of a one-year-old… I'm a fallen brother now. The code says not to help fallen brothers…"
"The code says we are one," Adarc replied, "And you're not a fallen brother! I know you aren't insane. You speak slowly, but every word you speak has reason behind it. If you were insane, you would be rambling. And the things you do have good reason behind them, even though they sound insane. I think the other hatchlings are stupid because they can't see that. They all fail at being rational, observant Scyther."
Adron sighed. His brother's words made him feel better, but he couldn't help disagreeing with them. He eyed his ditch, as if he wanted to withdraw and go back to sleep.
"But that's not why I want to help you," Adarc continued, quietly. "You're the most talented Scyther of this clutch, and I try to imagine growing up and fighting with the Adrellos and having you not at my side as an ally, but I can't. I was never confident in myself… with you gone, some of the hatchlings are starting to consider me the alpha, and I know I'm not, even though I try to humor them… Having you as a brother gave me a lot of the confidence I had."
"I'm not the same Adron anymore," he replied sadly. "I don't think that Adron will ever come back."
Adarc glared at him for a moment, then turned to pace away. "Well… before you run off into the wild," he said, raising his voice again, "Don't you think we should test your idea?"
"What do you mean?" Adron asked, looking at him oddly.
"Do you need an opponent who means to kill you?" Adarc asked, turning around. "Then I am that opponent."
"You just said you need me as your ally, and now you want to try killing me?" Adron said oddly. "How can I believe that?"
"Forget what I said," Adarc snapped. "Pretend I never said it. Now… should I help you, or not?"
Adarc took a battle stance. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, one slightly in front of the other, ready to launch himself forward in flight. He leveled his blades at his sides, readying them to strike. He lowered his head, adding range to his arms.
"Fine," Adron decided, looking at his battle stance and trying to copy it himself. "Fine…"
The standoff lasted for a few silent seconds.
"I attack on your command," Adarc said. "What do you want me to do?"
"One… fatal strike," Adron ordered. "Only one, for now."
"Very well."
"It must be a fatal strike!" Adron reminded him. "If not, it won't mean anything. Aim for the kill."
"I know."
Adron watched his opponent. Despite the confidence in his voice and the strong, burning gaze, Adarc trembled. His battle stance wavered as he planned the move that might end his brother's life. He saw this dark intention in Adarc's heart, and his heart began to race. Energy filled his limbs, readying his reflexes. His mind was ready to do whatever it took to survive.
And he let that survival instinct take control.
Adarc opened his wings and lunged, his blades opened wide. Adron held his breath. It was a scissor strike, aimed at his throat: a basic technique of decapitation, one of the first a Scyther learns in training, useful for quickly finishing many species of Pokémon without letting them utter a final cry. If performed with enough strength and precision, able to decapitate a Scyther.
Survive. Survive. Survive!
With startling reflex, Adron raised his blades high and wide to block the blow. His arms seemed to move on their own, without his will, controlled only by the desperate instinct…
*Clank!* *Clank!* Adarc's blades hit the backs of Adron's, a perfect block.
But Adron's instincts did not stop there.
*Schlunk!*
Adron copied the failed attack, closing his blades in a forceful scissor directly through Adarc's throat.
Clear blood smeared across the steel, as Adarc's wide-eyed head tumbled to the ground, the body following soon after.
"One fatal strike. Only one, for now."
"No…" Adron gasped, gaining control again, his heart pummeling the inside of his chest.
"It must be a fatal strike! Aim for the kill!"
"No… no!" Adron uttered profusely. "Adarc, no… No, no… this wasn't supposed to happen… No!"
Adron gasped in disbelief at his blood-stained blades, and at the fallen brother at his feet. He felt as tears began to trickle from his eyes, eyes that were now opened so wide…
"What have you done?" Adron uttered in a crazed, hysteric rage, dropping to his knees. "This is your fault! You controlled me! Father Adrel, forgive me... forgive... me..."
… … …
Adron saw rock.
Dark rock. And the stench of death.
He stirred, feeling the streaming tears dripping from the sides of his faceplate.
Night. It was night. Just like it had been that one time, long ago, when that Watcher had cursed him…
Snapping his head around and trying to make sense of his surroundings, he realized he was lying in his ditch.
He'd blacked out after the horrible deed he'd committed.
Filled with adrenaline and gasping for air, he nearly leapt straight out of the hole's mouth and onto his makeshift battle arena, his eyes locking to the place where he had killed Adarc.
He wasn't there. Either an animal had carried off the body, or…
It had been a dream.
No… not just a dream, he realized…
A daydream.
Awe covering his face, Adron realized he had never actually fallen asleep. He'd returned to his resting place to reflect upon the day's events…
And reflect, he did.
The hallucination had been so vivid it was indistinguishable from reality. It was a dream, a perfect dream, clearly visible to him through the broken barrier in his mind just like all his other rampant thoughts.
And then Adron held his breath, realizing the truth about the dream's nature: the dream had meaning.
It had come about as the result of combining the day's failed battles into one stream of thoughts. Everything Adarc had said to him came from his own expectation, following the patterns of the others.
The beast in his mind… it had learned.
And it was serving him, for it had answered the very questions he had asked. Was his method working at all? It was. Was there another way? Yes, the very one which it had showed him.
His mind had done as he had demanded of it: it was giving him guidance.
Now… all that was left was for him to act upon its guidance, to see if it could be trusted.