*Chapter 58*: Quiet Now

Author's note: This document, previously titled "The Inevitable Author's Note," contained nothing but an apology and an explanation for a very long absence I took from updating the story. In May of 2013, I wrote an extra chapter to fit into the story here to replace it.


"Quiet Now"

Many, many years ago, before the Call had been found...

A young Scyther dashed through fields of tall, green grass – silent and unseen, but swift and deadly.

He felt the exhilaration of the hunt, the thrill of flight. His wings vibrated in a steady pattern, extending each of his steps into a long, gliding pounce.

The smell of the grass, the partially-overcast sky that teetered on the edge of twilight, sure to erupt with the glorious colors of sunset at any moment. The delicious scent of prey somewhere ahead.

It was all perfect.

He held himself back just short of where the tall grass ended. He dug his toes into the moist dirt, anchoring himself upon the ground, and crouching down low.

He was perfect. The perfect predator. This is what he lived for.

His clan-mates caught up with him, stopping to flank him perfectly on both sides. He knew there were more allies lined up behind him, keeping the perfect formation.

They all awaited his order.

The Scyther looked ahead, peering through the grass, and saw them. The Tauros. The mouthwatering, sweet-meated Tauros.

"We are undetected," his partner reported, his voice as silent as the wind.

"What are you thinking about, Adron?" the other implored. "Who's our target?"

The Scyther smirked.

"They all are," he replied cockily. "The entire herd will be our dinner."

Ahhhhhh…

Ahhh…

"The entire herd!" the Scyther on his right echoed, seeming overjoyed at the very thought. "Can we take them all down?"

"Well, if anyone can do it, Adron can," the one on his right said. "Adron, we await your words."

Ahh, this…

This feels so nice…

"How many are with us?" Adron asked his wing-mates.

"All of them," his left wing-mate reported. "All fifty-five. We're all here. This is the full power of our swarm."

"Fifty-five?" Adron echoed, incredulous.

"And we're all in your command," the right wing-mate said. "The Adrellos are at your command."

The Scyther hesitated, thinking. He was the leader. He needed to make the right call. But this was what he lived for! This was his calling in life. He was blessed with the talents of a leader. He knew by instinct what others couldn't see. He knew when and where to strike.

They were all counting on him. As the newly-ordained father of the Adrellos, he could not let them down.

Ahh… such…

Such a good, good dream this is…

By the gods, I missed this. I missed this so much…

Ahh…

I… I haven't rested this well for a very, very long time.

I haven't felt this since… since…

The warm, divine wind was blowing past his face. The sun was falling, casting shadows in his direction.

He was a Scyther. He was one with the wind, one with the shadows. This was his night.

He gazed at the Tauros, the perfect prey. He saw how the leaders of the herd lingered in front, free for the picking.

I haven't felt this since I came to be on the resistance.

...

Wait.

Resistance? What is that?

Do not mind. That isn't important now; just relax.

The Scyther masterfully commanded his subordinates, surrounding the herd of unwary beasts. His orders were perfect; he knew intimately the skills and abilities of all his clan-mates, and delegated them to the proper tasks.

When he gave the word to attack, the blades cut cleanly through the brown hides, spilling that sweet, salty blood upon the –

No… no, I think it is important.

What is the resistance?

It…

Wait. This isn't me. This is just a dream.

This isn't my life anymore.

My life is somewhere else. I'm somewhere else.

Not for tonight, my dear Adron. Tonight, you may be back here, where you love to be.

Tonight, you may be happy.

No. No… no, this isn't right. This isn't right at all.

Stop this dream. Make it end. Make this dream end.

Alright… If you so insist, I will.

… … …

The Scyther awoke in a dark room, head planted uncomfortably against the floor.

His body was sore. His mind was sore.

The sleeplessness returned. The buzzing returned. The thoughts that ran on their own, never stopping for him… they all returned, full-forced.

The Scyther grit his teeth, feeling the exquisite dream become nothing more than a forgotten sensation. The memory faded too fast from his mind, mixing up with the insane jumble of ideas and intentions… the untamed beast which he lived with, fighting against for every day of his life. The beast which he had struck a pact with, demanding answers from it in return for his continued survival.

He tried to forget the dream faster. The faster he could forget what it felt like, the less bitter he would feel.

He sat himself up against the wall in this dark room, staring into the shadows. He could see into the shadows well enough, but they stretched too far into the distance to make anything out.

He knew, somewhere in those shadows, a pair of eyes watched him.

A gentle, cooing voice entered his mind. A telepathic voice. One that he knew too well. He cringed as it spoke.

Adron, it said gently. My dear Adron… you are hurting. Why do you choose to hurt? You know that it pains me to see you hurt…

I have gone as deep as I can go, Adron. You know that I can make you feel much better, but today you have brought with you a powerful Absol to keep me out of the core of your mind.

Why do you keep me out, Adron?

Why can't you let me in like you always used to?

Why can't we be together?

That voice. That voice was part of his dreams, never leaving. He hated that voice.

Yet, how could he come to hate it? It was so comforting, so soothing; whenever it spoke, it made the confusion go away. It made the pain go away. It made his thoughts form orderly patterns.

And it allowed him to rest. To sleep. To dream.

Yet, he seethed as the voice echoed between his ears, trying to pierce through to his innermost subconscious.

Oh, Adron…

Don't you see how broken you are becoming? Why don't you let me make it better? I can heal you…

Will you let me heal you? You know I can.

"No," the Scyther seethed, trying to block out the voice. "No… Enigma. Stop. I will not let you any further."

The voice wavered at the sound of the spoken name.

Why don't you call me Mother anymore…? the voice replied. You would always call me Mother. It made me so glad to hear.

"Because you're not my mother," the Scyther growled. "I do not know my mother. My clan made sure of it."

How cruel of them, the voice sighed. No one should need to live a pained life without someone to call their Mother. Everyone should have someone to flee to, someone to protect them, when they are lost, or worried, or in pain…

That is why I am here for you, my dearest Adron… That is why you need me.

And that is why we need Master, as well… he is our pillar of strength to flee to…

The Scyther leaped to his feet and shouted into the darkness, his voice exploding with rage.

"If only the Master knew what you have become!" the Scyther challenged in a fierce growl. "How can you claim to care about me, take away my pains, when you are the cause of those pains?! Do you – do you think I am blind? I will not fall for your temptations, Enigma! Not anymore…"

Adron… your words cut me. My words are not temptations. I love you, Adron… you know I love you.

But you know I also love Master, and I am doing precisely what Master wishes.

I only ask that you help take away my pains, and I will take away yours. It is all I ask.

Every night, I will let you rest peacefully and dream. Every night…

Just the way it used to be.

"KIAAAAHHH! I WILL NOT SLAUGHTER!" the Scyther cried into the darkness. "I will kill NO MORE! I will… not… let you kill any more…"

You know that Master dislikes weakness. The weak creatures fall without us meaning to. We try to save them, yet we cannot save them all… Some must perish.

They let themselves die because they do not understand what Master wants. They cannot bring themselves to see.

It pains us, but it is not something we can help, my dear Adron. You must come to understand.

"When their blood stains my blades, it stains my soul as well," the Scyther growled. "I am their murderer. And I will not let you use me for the culling anymore."

But you are a born hunter, the voice said, sounding desperate. That is what you were born to be, my good, dear Adron! Don't you see? You are happy when you are out there, in the field, hunting the prey! I see it in your dreams, and you see it there as well. That is who you are! I merely wanted you to be who you truly are. No one should ever be forced into something they are not.

But… if the hunt no longer makes you happy… I can understand.

I miss you so much, Adron… if you come back, then I promise nothing will ever stain your blades again, for as long as you live. No more hunting, no more slaying.

You may have your chamber back. You may have everything back which you once owned. You may have your dreams, your rest, and your command… everything.

If running errands for me is paining you, then I would not wish it upon you any longer. I do not want that anymore. I just want your company again, Adron. I miss you so much…

Please… just be here for me. And let me be there for you.

A shudder went through the Scyther's mind.

This… this was a heavy temptation.

It was a temptation to betray his newfound allies, his newfound life, his newfound goals…

Everything he had worked for would be left behind.

Yet… it would be perfect.

So perfect.

The Scyther's breath caught. He swiped a blade through the air before his face, as though cutting through the thought of ever having considered the voice's offer.

"No."

My Adron! It cried, saddened. What will it take to please you, my dear Adron? I would do anything to see you happy again at my side.

I would give you anything you ask for! And those things I cannot give, I will give to you in your dreams.

Adron... Why do you reject me so? Why do you wish to remain away?

"Because… because it is not enough to lay idly in the darkness," he said with conviction.

"Because I need to repent for what I have done. All those souls still cry out to me. I still remember their faces."

"I must avenge them. I cannot stop until I have undone everything you have made me do."

"Until then, I will never be happy. If you wish to help me become happy, Enigma, let me leave. Let us go our separate ways once more, and watch fate play out in whatever way it will."

There was a quiet pause. A tense silence. The Scyther's eye caught something moving in the darkness.

Very well, Adron, the voice replied so gently, yet so regretfully. If that is what you truly wish… though it pains me to see you go, I will let you go… if that is what will make you happy.

The Scyther felt her mental presence retract, leaving him separated from her. He felt the madness of his own mind rush back into its former place.

No one knows you the way I know you, my Adron, it said to him. Not even you.

You may go… But I just, I hope you one day come to realize how much I love you, and return to me…

We could be together again… just like we used to be…

The Scyther shook his head, looking pained.

A flash of sadness sparkled in his eyes. A moment of vulnerability swept over him.

For just that moment, he felt like a hatchling again. A tiny hatchling, loved and cared for by powers greater than himself… A hatchling loved by all, adored by all, and with a great future ahead of himself…

But he realized he was a grown Scyther now, not a hatchling anymore, and the moment ended quickly.

With a snort, he turned and walked away, forcing through a door in the wall and exiting the shadowy room.

Please, the voice called to him one last time. My Adron…

The voice whispered to itself, sobbing and crying alone in the darkness.

"Please… Please come back…"