…That's it!
That's the pattern! I see it now!
… … …
"Adron… I wasn't even aware you were still alive," Adarc said nervously. "And now, you want me to…"
"Train me," Adron said again, "by trying to kill me."
Adron grinned. So far, his hallucination had come perfectly true. The dream hadn't been a fleeting memory; it lingered for a while, a powerful impression upon his mind, one that he could manage to trust and to think about. It was a measure of order to the chaos. Now, the only thing left was to carry through with it, to see if it meant what he wanted it to mean. Adarc had been easy to lure to his hidden home; once he had caught sight of Adron, he could not help but to silently track him on his way back to his hiding place, just as he had always tried to do in the past. And he knew, if he said the right words, he could trick Adarc into doing his will just as the hallucination had suggested.
Adarc looked frightened. He was not as willing or agreeable as he had been in the dream. He glanced around Adron's hiding place, seeing the scrapes and indentations on the surrounding walls—marks of a crazed Scyther waging war on the inanimate rocks. He listened, disbelievingly, to Adron's words. Adron knew his brother wanted to run away and never return, and that he would, if he couldn't gain his trust in time. But Adron wasn't willing to let that happen; this was the last solid hope which had crossed his mind, and he was not going to let it escape.
"You aren't well!" Adarc grasped, twitching as he tried to avoid looking Adron in the eye. "You are still confused from the psychic attack. Adiel was right, it was permanent… Adron, I… I can't help you!"
"You can, and you will," Adron said powerfully. "I am insane, yes, but listen to me. I speak words you can understand, I don't ramble on with confused ideas like a mad Scyther would. My ideas have reasons behind them. I am not lost!"
Adarc did not answer. His gaze was downcast.
"Look at me, Adarc!" Adron cried. "You know I'm still in here somewhere. You can see me! Deny it. Deny it, if you don't believe it."
"I… don't deny it," Adarc said.
"Then help break free from this!" Adron pleaded. "I can improve, but I need help!"
Adarc scowled, glancing back the way he came. He shook his head.
"I don't have time," Adarc said. "You know… the confirmation ceremony is only… something like forty days from now! You want me to train you from the ground up in forty days?!"
"If you don't… I won't be able to join the Adrellos," Adron said. "If they don't give me another chance and let me train with the new hatchlings, they'll banish me. Is that what you want? You know that… I'm the most talented Scyther of this clutch. Can you go on as an adult and not have me at your side as an ally? You were never confident in yourself. With me gone, the others will think of you as the new alpha… can you live up to that? You can't. Because I was the one who gave you confidence. That's why you're going to help me."
Adron paused, waiting for his pointed words to take effect. He didn't know whether or not they would work, he was just saying what the voice in his head had told him to say, the voice representing Adarc in his hallucination. He held his breath, watching Adarc's unnerved face as he stared at some nearby rock. He hoped the response would be favorable.
"You're trying to manipulate me," Adarc finally said. "Poorly, but… you're trying to trick me into helping you. I know you can't be completely lost. …Yeah, Adron, I do still see you in there."
"Then you'll help?"
"Yes, I'll help you, I guess," Adarc decided. "If I can find the time…"
… … …
…It was so obvious! I've known it since the days of my infancy!
…All along, it's been right in front of me!
… … …
"I can only learn if I am in extreme peril," Adron explained, beginning the first of his desperate training sessions with Adarc. "Only imminent death lets me focus. Without it, I can't control where my thoughts go. That's why you have to try to kill me and hope that I block you. Otherwise I won't learn."
"And if I kill you?" Adarc wondered, hesitantly taking his battle stance. "What then?"
"Then be proud of yourself that you have ended my misery," Adron returned. "If I'm a lost cause, I'd want nothing more."
… … …
There it is…
It's in the way Adarc fights…
… … …
"Let me try something else first, before I just start trying to lop off your head," Adarc suggested.
Adarc stepped close to Adron, waving his blades in circular motions.
"When Almru first started training us, we did this. Do you remember? This is a baby's exercise. Try to block my blows."
Adarc moved his blades slowly and hypnotically in front of Adron's face. Just as slowly, he motioned toward Adron's shoulder with the sharp end of his blade. When Adron realized what he had meant, he positioned his own blade to stop the advance.
"No… no," Adarc said. "Go slow. Don't go faster than me."
"This will teach me nothing," Adron grunted.
"It taught all of us the foundations for advanced blade-fighting techniques," Adarc insisted, "even you. Real battles are the same. You just learn to go faster."
Having gotten Adarc's cooperation, he decided not to argue further. Frowning, he followed Adarc's motions and engaged in the exercise.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Adron blocked the predictable, slow-moving blades from touching his body.
Thunk.
"Good," Adarc said. "Try to launch counter-attacks, too. So I can see how you are."
Thunk.
Thunk.
Tink!
Surprised, Adarc connected with his blade and gently struck Adron's faceplate.
"Are you blind?!" Adarc blasted. "How did you miss that attack? It was coming right at your face!"
Adron was confused. He had to think about it for a second. In truth, something had caught his attention. His reeling thoughts had told him something important. But it was only the faintest of whispers, vanishing in an instant…
"I… I saw something…" Adron said, suddenly dazed. "There was… some kind of…"
"Adron, please, don't be distracted," Adarc groaned. "Just… keep blocking my attacks…"
… … …
The days blurred together as one as Adron ceaselessly tested himself, trying to find that which he had lost. His memories became disjointed. Sleep was scarce, always interrupted by the powerful hallucinations that always lurked inside of his subconscious. Days were spent trying to focus, hoping that the raging beast of his mind would give him leeway little by little…
"Get up, brother Adron!" a voice called from outside his ditch one morning. "Thirty-six days remain, we cannot waste a moment!"
Confused, Adron roused himself from his pathetically short nap to behold none other than Adiel staring back down at him.
"You're… not Adarc," Adron managed to say. "W-what are you doing here?"
"Adarc is busy today," he explained. "But he told me all about you, so I'll train you in place of him. Get up. I won't be easy on you!"
… … …
Adiel as well…
It's in the way Adiel fights, too…
… … …
"Now," said Adiel, facing his opponent. "I am told… you have been re-learning the twenty-six basic reactions, but in the slower motion. Adarc tells me you do fine with most of them, as long as you have plenty of time to react. But he also told me… you learn best if you are in danger of death."
"Yes," Adron replied. "Adarc's lessons have not helped me. I had only followed them because he believes he has to assess my moves. And… because he's hesitating."
"I am not hesitant!" Adiel said proudly. "I will put you in danger of death!"
Adiel took his battle stance, grinning evilly. Adron tensed.
"Brace yourself!" he yelled. "Come, brother! Let's your skill back where it belongs!"
He rushed, his blades bared in a lethal formation…
*Clang!*
… … …
More nights passed. Most were sleepless nights, all spent listening to his thoughts as they barely began to speak a language he understood. Most of the time, they still told him nonsense, processing streams of ideas his consciousness no doubt needed in some mysterious way. But rarely, from time to time, they told him other things… things neither he, nor any other Scyther, would have thought of…
One night, far past midnight, Adron knew that sleep was hopeless. His mind rushed, his heart pulsed intensely.
He didn't care about death. Death would be a blessing, if Arceus would grant it. Death was his bartering chip with the beast in his head. He feared not the Watcher which had injured him. If he crossed it again, perhaps it would repair his madness the same way it had caused it. But he could not let the time pass idly. His days, his heartbeats, his moments were numbered. He needed all the intense training he could find.
So, he plunged himself out into the wild dark night, away from the safety of the plateau.
And as he prowled through the night, feeling the fear of seclusion and helplessness mounting within him, he watched the demons from afar as they hunted.
"Fire-breather," he hissed to himself, witnessing the horned, dark-furred beast sulking across the plains before him. "Train me, fire-breather…"
The hound picked up his scent quickly, and bounded in his direction.
There was a standoff, as the wild animal crouched low to the ground, growling viciously.
"rrrrrrrrrr-RAUFF! Rrrrr…"
"Show me your fire," the young Scyther hissed. "Show me… the bane of Scyther… your fire…"
A burst of light, casting away the shadows just as a streak of lightning would. A fireball erupted from the beast's maw. Adron felt that beloved, horrified feeling fill him, felt how it organized his thoughts…
Survive. Survive. Survive…
… … …
And me…
The way I fight… It's also in the way I fight…
… … …
*Clang!* *Clang!*
"Adron, you know that battling isn't going to be the only thing they'll test you on?" Adarc said during a training session. "You have to have all kinds of things memorized! Do you remember any?"
*Clang!*
"The rules of survival in the wild? How to pace a limited food supply?"
*Clang!*
"The rules of deceiving the enemy? The four common mistakes?"
*Clang!*
"The rules of stealth? The blind spots of common creatures?"
*Clang!* *Clang!*
"You have to remember all these things we all learned from the start! Just learning to battle isn't going to make everything come back! Adron?"
"Quiet!" Adron barked. "Please… just let me focus…"
"Adron, there are only fifteen days left, and you've barely learned anything since we started! There's no way you're going to be ready…"
"I said quiet!" Adron cried. "I can't think… if you don't stop talking… wait!"
Adarc halted his attack, looking annoyed. "What's wrong? What?!"
"I… think I saw something," Adron said, examining his own blades and trying to remember. "There was… something. There was a pattern. I saw a pattern. I saw part of it before, but..."
"You saw a pattern? Just one?" Adarc spat. "I would hope that you would have picked up many patterns by now. Patterns are the heart of battle."
"No…" Adron muttered, looking straight at the sky. "It wasn't the same. It was something else… I swear it! There was something important…"
… … …
The days and nights continued to reel by, and Adron kept fighting Adarc, as well as with his rocks, and any creatures he could find to assist in his endeavor. He remembered Adiel's words, and hung on to them: yes, his skill was locked away. It was still there, it just needed to be unlocked, right? He needed to find the pattern, the answer, to break free from this accursed handicap…
… yet, time was running out…
Another fireball dispelled the shadows of the night, bursting upon the ground where Adron had stood, billowing ashes and smoke as it dissipated and lit little embers upon the blades of grass.
Adron buzzed his wings, attacking the dark hound from above. His instincts had helped to take control. They guessed where the lethal fire would land, and where the enemy was most likely to attack next… and Adron let it act, as though a foreign creature – the beast in his head – had taken full control of his motions. He struck the hound from the side, splitting a wound through its fur and staining his blade. The hound roared in fury and leaped to bite his assailant, but Adron took to the air once more…
*Shwooom!*
There came a fireball from a direction Adron hadn't expected. His body jolted, but it was too late. In the light of this new flame, he caught sight of a smaller hound – a child, just like himself – defending his parent.
Your body is highly flammable. Avoid fire at all costs; a spreading burn could end your life.
There was a crazy pain, as though his body was being torn to tiny shreds. He was on fire. His wings disintegrated. His flesh peeled back, turning dark brown. His breath was lost, so his final anguished cry could ring through the air…
No… no… This isn't happening.
Adron closed his eyes tight, wrapping his body up into a tight ball as though to drown out the rest of the world. He knew… situations like this had become so common now… and he had to learn to tell the difference…
This isn't reality…!
This… this is a dream!
…
And, just as he thought, the hallucination went away. He found himself sprawled on the ground somewhere just outside of the plateau, too winded to move.
Keeping fantasy distinct from reality had become one of his greatest challenges. Memories and corruptions of memories flashed before his eyes so often, he had to learn to question everything he saw, everything he felt…
… … …
Soon, far too soon, the eve of the confirmation ceremony had come.
As the sun dimmed and the shadows of the Shattered Plateau covered his body, Adron stayed wide awake, assuming the stance for one final practice session. This was the end. Everything was riding on how skilled he had become at this point. Tomorrow would signify the beginning of his life as an honorable Scyther… or a dishonorable outcast, banished from the Adrellos as a fallen brother.
And what had he learned? Barely anything, it seemed. It felt to Adron that his thoughts had remained a chaotic mess, his battle skills still pathetically unreliable. If his "beast" friend had learned anything, it was outside of his perception, outside of his control.
Yet… he would not give up. If a revelation would happen that night, Adron determined, he would be awake to see it.
Before him, remaining at his side to the very end, was his brother Adarc. Though he was weary and worn from the day's intense exercises, he had refused to give up on his old rival, always hoping he would break free from the handicap. But tonight, he was beginning to face the hard fact that his hopes could have been in vain.
"Fight me!" Adron commanded.
So he obeyed, engaging in a sparring match with his brother one last time.
"Don't hold back!" Adron ordered. "Fight me as you would fight the Adrellos tomorrow. Use all of your skill! Fight to kill!"
Adarc quickly closed the distance, leaping into the air and using his wings to help propel his jump. He propelled himself directly over Adron's head, slashing at his face. With a clash of steel, Adron blocked it.
Landing upon the ground, Adarc pivoted himself quickly and launched another attack, slashing at Adron's back. Adron turned quickly and ducked.
"You… you're still not attacking me back, Adron," Adarc said. "I left myself wide open there. Why won't you attack?"
"Fight! Please!" Adron answered. "Just fight me!"
Adarc spun his body unpredictably and managed to connect a back-handed blow to Adron's abdomen. Adron stumbled back.
"You should have dodged that," Adarc growled. "Adron, you haven't improved much…"
"Please, just keep going," Adron insisted.
Adarc took to the air again, closing in on Adron's unprepared form. Adron parried the attack, thrusting Adarc farther away. Adron tried to take advantage of the strike, but he was met with the blunt of Adarc's foot to his chest, sending him to the ground. Adarc waited for Adron to get back up.
"You're not fighting me!" Adron growled. "Please… fight! Try your hardest!"
"Adron… I'm exhausted. Do you have any idea what the sensei put us through today? I need my rest…"
"No, not yet… I need… Just a little more time! Adarc… please, fight me!"
"Adron… I've fought you enough," Adarc said, stepping back and letting go of his battle stance. "And… you can't fight back. What's an hour more going to do for you? You can't… you can't improve."
"There's a pattern!" Adron pleaded, returning to his feet. "I almost see a pattern… It's right there in front of me… I can't explain it, but if I had more time to see it… I know I can find it!"
Adarc stood still. He felt pained. His expression turned grave. This was it; he had to draw the line at this point. The code said that he should not try to help a fallen brother back to their feet, and now he knew why: because it would bring him down as well.
The following day, he would join the Adrellos. He needed to learn how to follow the code. And so, he finally turned his back on his friend, parting ways with him.
"Yes, Adron," he said in a defeated sigh, not looking back. "Battles have patterns."
And, just like that, he was gone.
And Adron knew he had been deserted. He knew his life, everything he had trained for, was lost. The "beast" in his mind had not been trained. It remained his enemy, ruining his hope of becoming a strong warrior.
He knew it was over.
He stood still, for a very long time, staring at the path which Adarc had departed through, and contemplating where his place would be in the world.
… … …
At last, the confirmation ceremony had arrived.
Adron decided to attend the ceremony. There was no reason he couldn't; everyone assumed he would be participating in it. In truth, he just wanted to see all of his life-long companions off to their new positions in the Adrellos ranks, probably for the last time. Death would come soon enough for him; he knew he would somehow die out in the wild, helpless and alone, by the claws of the ferals. But, before that would happen, he wanted a little peace of mind from knowing his brothers would continue where he couldn't lead them, or even follow them…
The ceremony took place on a rocky ridge the Adrellos had named the "stone altar": it was a fragment of the plateau, a quarter-mile in diameter, which towered high above the craggy shelters of the Adrellos lair like a sliced-off mountain. It glowed in the mysterious orange colors of dawn as the Scyther clan gathered at its summit.
On one side, sensei Adram led the clutch of hatchlings. Twenty-three in all, they marched in ranks behind their leader. Some were filled with fear and anticipation. Others were filled with confidence. All were deathly silent, for one stray murmur out of line meant disrespect, and possibly disqualification.
Adron stood at the very back, where Adram had ordered him to go. He was complacent. He knew his fate. He would decline participation in the ceremony, and take whatever fate would deal him from there. Feeling that cold morning breeze, and seeing the glowing tint of the morning sunrise, he almost wanted to cry. It was the battlefield he loved, and it was the dawn of the future. But he was no longer a warrior. The battlefield was not his place anymore.
On the other side of the flat stone pillar, minus those few who could not attend, there stood the entirety of the Adrellos clan.
There were at least forty of them. They stood tall, towering over the little hatchlings like a wall of gods, pride burning in their eyes and immutable strength in their forms. Adron gazed in awe upon the visage of them all gathered in one place. They looked so different than he, or any of the other hatchlings. Their green skin and armor was tainted with scratches, scars, and calluses, making each one of them appear like a new species of creature entirely. Their blades were long and misshapen, having been worn down and sharpened. They, too, stood in total silence, as if not yet wanting to wake Mother Nature from her slumber…
And in the center, between the two groups, there stood one Scyther distinct from all the rest. His body was elderly and tattered, yet an iron will shined in his aura, showing the world that he was not yet done with his business among the living, and that anyone who took him to be too old and weary to fight back was horribly – perhaps even fatally – mistaken. His color was a deep and dark green, like the coarse and rugged plants which grow in the depths of a jungle. His gaze was wise and deep, his eyes having seen most of the things there is to see in the world. His stature demanded that he be feared and respected with all of one's heart, yet perhaps also loved and trusted. He was Foster-father Adrav, the ninth successor of Father Adrel, and leader of the Adrellos.
Father Adrav held his head high, assessing this new batch of younglings. Adram meekly approached him, commencing with the ceremony.
"Great Adrav, foster-father and brother of the Adrellos clan, I present to you the seventeenth generation of Scyther hatchlings. They have spent every moment of their childhood training to serve you, and now, I proudly hand them over to you. Test them as you see fit."
Adrav nodded. "I will," his voice boomed. "Good. Your work is finished, good Adram. You may take your place among my ranks."
The sensei bowed, then left the hatchlings on their own and crossed to the other side of the platform where he stared back at them, a beaming satisfaction in his eyes.
Adrav slowly approached the hatchlings, causing them all to shudder with intimidation as his mighty eyes scanned over them. The tip of the sun began to peek over the edge of the stone altar as Father Adrav began speaking.
"You wish to share in my brotherhood," he grunted, but in a powerful voice which seemed to be on fire. "So you have labored to learn the things Father Adrel wished for you to learn. Now, I must see if you will stand to our standards. The tests I have planned for you will last for fifteen days. They will thoroughly test your adherence to the code. There will be no breaks. You will not be allowed to sleep while you are tested. You will not be allowed to falter.
"Should you pass the test, you will become my equal. I will be your father only in title, because I will ask that you trust my judgment and allow me to direct your action as is good for this clan. But you will be my brother, and I yours. I will explain to you who the Adrellos are, and what we intend to accomplish with our power, and I would fight for you just as I would fight for any of these Scyther standing behind me. I would ask for you to do the same.
"Should you fail the test, however... Perhaps you were given unfortunate traits from your egg-bearers. Perhaps you are unwilling to serve me. I will talk with you and determine if a few more years in training would help you. As we will not be raising hatchlings for many more months, you would need to live secluded, apart from us, before the new generation hatches and is ready to learn. If that sounds unreasonable to you, or if I determine your spirit is not right for this clan… you will be handed over to the wild.
"Living in the wild is not dishonorable. I myself have lived in the wild for several years. There is no brotherhood out there, no one to serve but the forces of nature which animate you. If you are strong enough to survive, you might find purpose out there, and you might become a respectable wild animal. I would wish you the blessing of Father Adrel as you go. So do not harbor bitterness in your hearts as you are banished from us. There is a reason you are tested at such a young age; you are too young to know true bitterness. If you had learned the true treachery of the world, and your failure would come with range and anger… I could not let you live. I would need to destroy you, to protect my companions from the cunning wrath of a fallen brother.
"That decision is yours to make. You do not have to follow through with this. You may leave any time. For some of you, a life in the wild might be more appropriate, more fulfilling than the lives we children of the Adrellos lead. So, I ask now: do any of you hatchlings choose this option?"
There was silence, utter stillness. Only Adron stirred, bowing his head slightly.
"Good answer," Adrav said with a grin. "Now… We will begin with your testing. I have decided to start with the part which most of you are probably anticipating with high hearts, and get it out of the way first… agility trials. I will choose one of my brothers to duel with each of you. You are not expected to win, but to demonstrate your ability to your fullest extent."
He approached one of the tallest of the Scyther hatchlings in the front row.
"Step forward, hatchling," he ordered. "Your name?"
"Aduun, father," he replied confidently, his wings twitching in eagerness.
"Hatchling Aduun, please, demonstrate your battle prowess against my brother, Adrik…"
Adron watched from the back row as Aduun stepped to the center of the altar to confront one of the Adrellos warriors. Aduun was always an energetic and diligent one. His skills had been no match for Adron's, but he certainly had some fight in him. Adron knew he would do very well in this first trial…
Little Aduun used every technique he knew of, displaying them all perfectly before the crowd of onlookers, against the older Scyther. Blades clashed, wings buzzed, and streaks of green blurred through the air the little hatching tried to stand his ground against the older, more experienced warrior…
And in Adron's head… that's when the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
… … …
"Adron, I am your teacher, not your murderer," the elder reminded him. "Wipe away your pride. You would stand no chance against me if I didn't hold back."
The elder would not give the little one what it wished, but he doubled his efforts in hopes that the hatchling would be satisfied with a greater level of challenge. Opening his wings, he propelled himself far above the clay-ridden ground to attack his student from the air. The hatchling rose to the challenge, swarming at the elder and zipping past in attempt to strike from confusing angles. But every attack was blocked, as the elder expertly pivoted his blades to defend himself. The ringing cries of opposing steel filled the air once again.
*Clang!* *Clang!* *Clang!*
… … …
It's in the way Sensei Adram fights…
… … …
Visions, memories spiraled before Adron's face. He saw flashes from the previous month, the month he spent trying unsuccessfully to cope with the mental injury…
… … …
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?"
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.
… … …
It's in the way Alwry fights…
… … …
The memories were relentless, flooding his vision. They streamed from his desperate attempts to train with Adarc, back to his sessions with sensei Adram, and sensei Alrac before him, back to before, back when he was just an infant, struggling for survival in the wild…
Focus, Adron… Focus!
I am Adron, a Scyther… I don't know where I am…
It's true, isn't it? Adron the Prodigy is dead?
It taught all of us the foundations for advanced blade-fighting techniques, even you. Real battles are the same. You just learn to go faster.
You have to remember all these things we all learned from the start! Just learning to battle isn't going to make everything come back!
We must never be content. Creatures who live without purpose are weak and useless; our undying hunger for power is the source of our strength…
It's everywhere… it's in all of us!
*FLASH!*
… … …
There was a blinding flash of light behind Adron's eyelids as he awoke from the most powerful dream he'd experienced yet. He looked around him, seeing the hatchlings still lined up, watching in awe as Aduun battled to prove his worth. But it didn't seem real, now. It seemed like another dream, but he knew it was real. He was there, attending the confirmation ceremony, standing among those who were about to be tested…
He struggled to catch his breath. He'd seen everything, everything which had happened to him, as though it had happened over the course of only a few minutes…
…and it had told him the pattern.
"I know it," he whispered, an awestruck gasp. "I know what the pattern is!"
Several of his brothers turned to glare at him, his disruption of the ceremony a severe sign of disrespect. He ignored them. He gasped in disbelief, as though he'd just witnessed Arceus himself flying in the morning sky. The beast had proven its worth to him. It had given him the answer. In fact, in its mysterious ways, it had been on his side the whole time.
"The pattern… is him!"
Adron shuddered uncontrollably. He couldn't contain himself. He saw the answer.
The early-morning sun still burned the brown rocks and the sky with its awesome fire. This was the battlefield. And now, he would strike.
He knew what he had to do.
His legs trembled so bad, he relieved them of their pressure and jumped into the air, flying straight over the crowd of hatchlings.
At first, nobody noticed him. Everyone's eyes were stuck on the battle. But the father of the clan, observant as he was, caught sight and watched as the hatchling stepped out of line.
Then, when he had flown near the center of the altar, he dropped back onto the hard stone surface, staring his clan leader in the eye.
And he yelled at the top of his lungs:
"I challenge you, Father Adrav!"
The battle stopped immediately, both contestants' attentions snapping at the distraction.
The Adrellos warriors stared at the bold little hatchling with amused disbelief. The other hatchlings wore looks of terror. Adron knew his challenge had not been a light one: to challenge the leader like this was to challenge him for his role… the role of foster-father of the clan. To win this challenge, he would be declared the new foster-father of the Adrellos. To lose… by tradition, he would be banished dishonorably from the clan. And not only that – the contest was a true duel. There would be no concessions made, no mercy. The battle would not end until one side would surrender. If none surrendered… it would be a battle to the death.
It was unheard of for a hatchling to utter this challenge against one who could so obviously crush him. But here, it was happening before everyone's eyes, and they stood in shock and awe, waiting to see how Adrav would react.
"Adron, you're insane!" Adarc gasped. "You can't win!"
"Stand down, Adron!" sensei Adram pleaded from the other side, rushing forward. "For the love of honor, please… stand down!"
But Father Adrav raised a blade behind him, commanding the sensei to halt. His eyes remained fixed on the brave little hatching.
"The challenge has been uttered, it cannot be taken back," he rumbled bitterly. "So… little one… you wish for me to banish you. I will fulfill that wish."
"I would be banished anyway!" Adron shot back.
Father Adrav laughed. "But what, in your tiny little mind, makes you think you can beat me?"
"Because I can!" Adron proclaimed. "I know your fighting style! Your spirit shines in every member of this clan! You're the one who passed your skill to the rest of us, and burned your wisdom into us so that we could be as great as you! All my life, I've been fighting you! Your ideas! Your techniques! The way you preach the code! With every blow, even I swing your blades! Now I challenge you, just as you have called me to!"
"You have seen visions, then," Adrav grumbled. "I have never met you before in my life. And I would have never called you to act so foolishly."
"Fight me!" Adron challenged. "And I will show you what you have made me!"
"Obliged," Father Adrav responded.
The other hatchlings gaped in amazement. The elders hung their heads in shame.
The great Scyther attacked.
Adron had not even time to blink. In a blinding blur, Adrav zipped up to him and bashed him across his entire body with just one blow of his blade. The blow seemed to strike every major nerve, making Adron feel as though he'd been lit on fire and drowned in pain.
Adron tumbled backward, but quickly struggled to recover. He rolled and climbed back to his feet, taking to the air as fast as he could. But after another glance at his surroundings, he could not spot his opponent.
*WHAM!* Adrav had maneuvered just above him, bringing down both his blades upon him with great force. Adron fell straight down, slamming against the hard stone floor. His consciousness shook.
Reeling from the hit, he rolled to the side and a clang resounded as the father's blades missed and struck the rock underneath.
Survive. Survive. Survive.
Adron took the chance and lunged at his target, striking at Adrav's legs as he spun his body and rose back to his feet. His attack hit, but Adrav appeared unaffected. In retaliation, Adrav dove over the hatchling's scrambling form and cut off his escape route, pinning him for a moment between the elbow and the knee before painfully snapping his arm back and flinging him away.
"What… is this you're showing me?" Adrav demanded. "That you have learned to flail like a carp out of water?"
"I… I haven't shown you… yet!" Adron struggled to say, leaping back up.
Focus, Adron! He told himself. Beast… help me! If there is one time you must focus for me… it's now! This battle is everything! Please, listen! This is for our survival!
And the beast heeded his call, for he felt his body being taken over by his subconscious mind.
Slash! Adron connected a quick strike as he zipped past his opponent. It hadn't much affected the elder, but it was a successful attack nonetheless. He noticed the father had anticipated the attack in the wrong direction and failed to block it.
Slash! Another successful strike, from another angle the father hadn't anticipated. Adron felt as his blade carved out a small dent in the elder's flesh.
"Enough," Adrav grunted, turning an eye to focus on Adron's zipping form.
Adron tried to strike a third time, but the strike failed; Adrav caught the hatchling's body between his arms, locking it in a painful grip. Then, with a masterful maneuver, he launched himself from the ground by the force of his wings, twisted his body, and catapulted Adron straight into the ground. Adron felt his vision blacken for a moment, his thoughts becoming more scattered as the pain wracked his sense of feeling.
Act, beast… Adron pleaded. I can't do anything else. Now you must… you must act!
Annoyed at the audacity of the little one, Adrav decided the battle needed to end. So, he zipped down at his fallen opponent one last time, ready to deliver the blow which would render him incapable of fighting further. Of the various efficient methods to disable an opponent without killing them, he chose the most appropriate—crippling—and descended to perform the act.
But as he set himself on a collision course with Adron… as he directed his mind, prepared the muscle-memory to strike the joints of the legs… he noticed Adron had managed to kneel up, and to face him.
The hatchling's body was glowing with white energy.
No…!
Adrav could not pull back, his own subconscious mind already set upon its course. So, he merely braced himself, ready to take the consequence of his miss-estimation…
*Slash! Slash!*
Adrav's attack was devastating. Two lethal, crippling blows had missed their mark just slightly, striking Adron's body. Adron felt as his bodily fluids splattered from him, felt the delayed sting of the blunt blades as they tried to slice him into multiple pieces…
…And he took the full brunt of the blow, his stature quivering, his mind ready to succumb to defeat… in those split seconds, as the force of the elder collided with him, the whole force of his body pushing the blades deeper and deeper into his sides, he perceived it as an eternity…
He felt the energy… and he let it go.
Like a loaded trap, Adron released his coiled body against the swooping elder, striking with impossibly powerful blows.
*SLASH!* *SLASH!*
The power seemed to have come from nowhere at all. Adron had let the beast take over, and it countered the elder's attack with such swift, brutal blows, that it had matched and easily doubled the might of Adrav's force.
His breath taken away, Adrav was propelled away, spinning through the air and landing onto his back. The onlookers could not hold back a gasp as the father of the clan fell on his face, tumbling several feet away from his opponent.
Incredible… Adrav thought, laying still for a moment. I don't believe what I've just seen…
"W-where did you learn that technique?!" Adrav demanded, righting his body.
"You taught me!" Adron claimed confidently, cringing to bear the pain. "Through the… ways… you've taught the clan… you've taught me…"
"I have taught that technique to no one!" Adrav blasted. "No one could have taught you!"
Angered, Adrav wasted no time in recovering from the impressive blow. Enraged now, he stomped back across the field of battle where Adron writhed in pain.
After two powerful backhanded swats, Adron was face-down on the ground. Adrav placed his foot upon his back and applied heavy pressure, causing Adron to moan.
"Surrender," Adrav demanded.
Survive… Survive… Survive…
Our undying hunger for power is the source of our strength…
Creatures who live without purpose are weak and useless…
We must… never… submit…
Adron couldn't struggle. His body was pinned. His blades were trapped and couldn't bend the right way. He felt his thorax about to collapse from the pressure, crushed like a common bug underfoot.
"Surrender, hatchling!" Adrav growled louder.
Adron groaned loudly, making one final attempt to crawl out from under the elder's strength, but he could not move an inch.
"Surrender, or I will end you!" Adrav roared down at him.
Finally, Adron lay still, acknowledging his struggles were in vain. Finally… after his years of training, and his days of chasing such a false hope, he accepted his fate.
"I… surrender."
Father Adrav released his flat, spiked foot from Adron's back, then kicked the hatchling's body away in disgust, flipping him onto his back and sending him skidding towards the crowd of gaping onlookers. Here, he lay still.
Shaking his head, Father Adrav left the fallen hatchling behind and returned to his group. He looked unnerved, distracted with his own thoughts, as some of his confidants clustered around him to speak with him.
"What a misguided little one!" one of the other Scyther said. "But what courage he had…"
"He is insane," Adram explained. "His mind was damaged, and he doesn't think straight… This was an act of madness, I assure you…"
Father Adrav sighed, shaking his head in confusion. He still felt the pain from the counterattack in his chest, felt how real it had been. He tried to imagine what the little hatching had possibly meant when it claimed he had taught it the technique indirectly. Could it have happened? Could the little one have possibly been so observant to piece together little tells from the whole span of his life, just to learn how to fight back against him?
Or… was it something else?
"I fear… he was not misguided at all," Adrav admitted. "There's something about him…"
"He learned the 'vital counter' technique somehow, without your intervention!" another Scyther said. "That is impressive, indeed… Imagine how bright his mind must be!"
"I am imagining…" he sighed. "It is unlikely—not impossible, but very unlikely—that he was able to build enough subconscious cues to learn about me. I find it hard to believe, but it could have happened. However… there is one… one other… possibility…"
Adrav hesitated, biting his tongue for a moment. His posture now betrayed a grave weakness. With a pained expression, he continued to speak.
"What I am about to say… tell none of the others. I am asking you to break the code, and keep a secret from them… understand?"
"Understood, my brother," one other Scyther whispered back.
"I can keep it," another responded, "if you must tell it."
"Well... it is possible… no, probable, that…" Adrav said slowly, his gaze cast downward to look no one in the eye, "…that the knowledge was imbued in him from the beginning. What I mean to say is… that he… might have learned it from the egg."
He said nothing more to the other Scyther, not daring to look at their reactions. He knew how stunned they were at the suggestion, he didn't need to see it in their faces. So, he lifted his blade and brushed his brothers out of the way, returning to the place where the battle had happened.
The little one still lay dazed and wounded. He had curled up, trying to cover his oozing wounds. He did not mutter to himself, did not wail in pain… he only gave many short, gasping breaths, his eyes closed tight…
The father realized the little one was crying.
"Hatchling," Adrav spoke. "What was your name, again?"
"He is Adron," one of the other hatchlings answered for him, fearing he would stay silent. "Adron the prodigy."
Adrav hummed. Yes, he'd heard this name mentioned many times before. Even the elders had sung his praises sometimes…
"Hatchling Adron," he spoke, "according to custom, because you have surrendered from the challenge, I must now banish you from any further contact with the Adrellos clan, and hand you over to the wild…"
Adron's eyes blinked open. He turned his head slightly to view the great elder warrior as he came to stand over him.
"But… one of the first things we learn, when we are trained at an age as young as yours… our customs, and our rules exist only to strengthen us, not to weaken us. Where we would be weakened by our traditions… we must learn when it is appropriate to break them. If we were never willing to break our own rules, we would all still be hatchlings."
Adron said nothing, only now wearing a look of surprise.
"Hatchling Adron, I believe that by banishing you, I would weaken the Adrellos, and so I will not. I am told you have gone mad. I do not believe that. If you are mad, I believe I might also suffer from the same madness… and I believe I might be able to help you, if you were to let me. And I will stand over you and fight for you, until you might rise back to your feet."
The father then knelt over the child, looking with pity upon his wounds, looking into his broken, confused eyes… and he bent down, whispering silent words into his ear:
"You couldn't defeat me this time, but… maybe next time. If you let me, I can teach you how."
At that, the little one let his eyes close, finally content in his effort. He drifted away into his dreams.
… … …
My name is Scythe.
I gave myself that name after learning my place in the world.
As a hatchling, a ghost invaded my mind and took from me everything I thought I had. My future was destroyed. My place in the world was lost. I began an endless struggle to find it again.
As a hatchling, I was the first among my clutch. As a fledgling, I was chosen by the clan leader to succeed him.
As an adult, I was chosen to serve the Master.
It had taken all of that, even years of slavery beneath the wretched reign of the Master, to learn where I now belonged in the world.
I am still a leader. But I never imagined I would have ended up as the leader of a tiny guerilla effort against the invincible power of the Master.
I still follow the code. I still never end my search for power. But now, after seeing for myself the nature of power, and all the destruction it causes, I finally know what the code means, and why we are taught to follow it.
To hold power… is to hold a responsibility to serve.
To be a leader… is to be a servant to those which you lead.
But what you serve… that is your decision to make. And I have made my decision.
I am Scythe, and Ambera is my garden, from which I will cull those who want to oppress it, to stifle it, to silence it. The Master's followers, with all their terrible power, still do not understand its nature, and so they use the power to destroy everything. I rise each day to cut them down, and take that power away.
And each day when I rise, I seek… I watch… I wait for the greatest power the world has ever known…
"Scythe?"
Through the tear in my mind, I can hear it. I can hear it as clearly as the spoken word… the silent call which drowns all others…
"Scythe, what's wrong? What did you see?"
The call which can bring order to the chaos of the world…
"We're out of supplies, remember. Don't be getting us into anything we'd regret."
For that power, I wait…
I wait, and I watch…
"I don't believe it, but I think… it came from Shamble Forest."
The Sandslash sighed as his Scyther partner wandered off course, as though aimlessly tracking a scent. The day had been long and exhausting, and every new step was a struggle, and the thought of laying down to rest in the comfort and safety of his den was becoming very pleasant. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and chased after his partner.
"Scythe, it's already evening. We're late enough as it is," the Sandslash pleaded. "We're wasting our time! They're expecting us back."
"No!" the Scyther hissed. "I swear, I felt it! It was unmistakable."
The light of the evening sun continued to dwindle as the Scyther and the Sandslash cut their way through Shamble Forest. The Scyther marched forward with determination, as if enraptured by a siren's song, while the shrew followed reluctantly behind.
"Scythe…"
"I swear! It came from this way. We have to go farther!"
The twosome foraged their way through shrubs and saplings as the sun slowly sank out of sight, filling the sky with a reddish hue. Night would be upon them very shortly. The Sandslash cast a worried glance upward, knowing they'd soon be out of precious sunlight if he didn't get his stubborn partner back on track.
"Scythe, do I even have to remind you of how… improbable it would be to have this sort of thing happening now?"
"But it's what we've been waiting for, isn't it?"
"Scythe… nothing lives in this forest except for some dumb Pidgey and Butterfree."
As the two emerged into a clearing, a startled flock of Pidgey scattered and took off toward the sky. The frustrated Sandslash grumbled in resentment.
"Scythe, it's almost night, and we're still miles from the base. It's too late for this! If we don't head back now, the Watchers will catch us. Are you sure you're in a mood to fight with the Watchers?"
"And what if I'm right?!" the Scyther snapped. "What if I'm right, and I did hear something coming from in there? If you're right, and there's nothing there, then I guess we'll get back a little late, and the team will be worried about us for one night. So what? But I'm sensitive to the Call. I'm obliged to look farther. If the Call is coming from inside this forest, it's my job to investigate. Because… if there is something there… we can't afford to not find it. We have to get to it before the Watchers do."
"I know, I know," said the Sandslash. "But the time is not right for the Call. That's all I'm saying. We still have another three years, at the very least…"
"I know the time is not right," The Scyther grumbled. "It doesn't matter. This could be an anomaly. Or it could have been one we missed. Shander… if you don't trust me, you're free to head back now. I'll go on alone."
The Scyther smiled wryly to himself, knowing full well that the Sandslash wouldn't dare venture back on his own. The team followed a strict buddy system for a reason: more than one of the members of Team Remorse had experienced firsthand the dangers of trying to face the ghosts alone.
"I'll go with you," the Sandslash sighed, "I trust you. Besides, I'm a bit rusty at fighting the Watchers. I could use some experience. But just one thing… It's been twenty-four years since the Call. Are you sure you remember what it sounds like?"
"It's not something one can easily forget," the Scyther said.
Taking a deep breath, the Scyther led his best, most trusted friend deeper into the woods.
It is my purpose to find you, the Scyther said to himself, keeping the ring of the subconscious cry clear in his mind. Whoever you are… I heed your call!