He picked the blade up and wiped it carefully, then set it down gently atop the corpse.
"Okay, okay, I know it's not your sword, it's his, but he took yours, remember?"
His brother said nothing. He nodded approvingly.
"And that's why we took his, he took yours so we took his. So yeah, it's not really yours-yours, but it's yours-enough, right?"
The wind ruffled the dead man's hair slightly, and his brother smiled down at him lovingly.
"See? So now we've all three of us got a sword each. You should rest now, though. It's been a long day."
Around him, servants set stone over stone over stone. Whatever they were building was going to be beautiful, he could tell. One of them brought over a bowl of fruit, and he carefully set the biggest one down in front of his brother.
"You really should eat something, you know. We're both upset about what he did, turning on us like that, but you've got to keep your strength up. We can't fight back on empty stomachs!"
He continued to chat with his dead brother as the servants constructed a mausoleum around them. His own wounds would be fatal if the infections were left untreated, but he insisted, his brother needed him. Who else would keep the poor man's spirits up, after their older brother had betrayed them that way? Started a war, blamed the whole thing on him, it was enough to break a man's heart. No wonder the poor man had been so moody since they left home. The days turned into weeks, and he never left his brother's side, happily accepting food and water from the servants, thanking them for the lovely home they'd built, assuring them that his brother would thank them too, once he started feeling better. They had a bright future in this place, after all. Why, their names would probably be remembered for generations!
The door had been finished almost a month ago. The servants carefully arranged the brothers side by side, covered them in fine silk, and lay their swords between them. The walls within had been carved with the story of their betrayal and journey.
Someone would come searching for the truth eventually. He just needed to wait.
Long post, yayyy lol. I've got a special page for this, but I decided to make a unique post as well to hopefully spread word of mah boi.
tw mary-sue bullshit =D and uh also implied horrific murder
Aspear does not know his true origins. He was found swaddled in a blanket, next to a bag containing large crystal shards, by the Matriarch of a large Nidoran herd, who named him Aspear, both because that was her favorite berry and because he shared their colors. The Patriarch and most of the other Kings paid him no mind, but the Queens of the herd cared for him like one of their own. Unknown to the herd, the shards were from shattered Mewtonite, but they didn’t even know what a Mewtwo was, and as the Nidoran lines did not Mega Evolve, Mega Stones were also unfamiliar to them.
Due to rumors that the Nidorina and Queens of the herd were able to breed, there were sometimes poaching attempts by humans, usually employing other Pokemon. The battles were fierce and even a strong, healthy King or Queen could be seriously injured. Aspear volunteered early on to join in the campaigns against poachers, but the Matriarch forbade it, fearing that if he turned out to be a very rare Pokemon, the poachers would come more often, not less.
However, there were also a few rare humans who were granted access into the herd’s valley, including a young woman who made jewelry for the Patriarch and Matriarch, and simple items for the rest of the herd to trade among themselves. During one of her visits, the Matriarch Queen presented her with the bag of crystal pieces she had found alongside Aspear. When the young woman next visited, she returned the pouch, now containing a necklace of polished stones instead of jagged shards. Once more, the Matriarch forbade Aspear from showing himself, but the moment he took it from the pouch he felt a great power and connection to it, and from that point on wore it around his neck, guarding it jealously.
Aspear’s first interaction with humans came during a poaching attempt. While the narrow trail into the valley was carefully guarded by Kings and Queens, entry through the trees was unexpected. The humans, all in matching outfits, rappelled down the cliffs behind the small grove, and stalked towards the herd under the cover of dusky darkness. The invasion went unnoticed at first, until the Patriarch suddenly roared and directed the Nidorinas and Nidorinos to charge at the trees, having seen the glow of Poke Balls catching the Nidorans who wandered too far into the evening shade. Aspear saw this as well, and rushed to save his cousins from the humans.
With so many Pokemon now attacking them, the poachers pulled out their own Pokemon - far stronger than what the usual poachers brought with them - sending them to hold off the herd and give the poachers more time to capture or ward them off. Aspear did his best to fend them off, but his focus was already on the younger Nidorans, snatching them out of harm’s way and even grabbing Poke Balls out of the air to forcefully crack them open.
And then the Matriarch was downed. Shocked and infuriated, Aspear rushed at the poachers, blindly attacking human and Pokemon alike. Those who had flying Pokemon desperately scrambled to reach space open enough to leave the valley by air, and those who didn’t were simply left to face his wrath.
Once the battle was over, he hurried to the Matriarch’s side, terrified that his mother might have been killed. Fortunately, despite the severity of her wounds, they were non-fatal, and she would survive, though she declared that a new Queen would need to be named Matriarch, as she knew that she would never completely recover from the wounds she had obtained in the battle.
It wasn’t until he was sure of her survival that he finally noticed how everyone else was staring at him, and he realized that his body felt strange to him. Promising to return quickly, he headed for the valley’s waterfall pool, and was baffled by the reflection that looked back at him, as well as his limbs. The shock of coming face to face with the changes were apparently enough to reverse them, and he reverted back to his base form in a matter of seconds.
Aspear oversaw his mother’s recovery personally. He brought her the freshest berries and herbs, sniffed out unpleasant roots to grind into healing powders and salves, and stood at attention by her side when neither task was necessary at the time.He also spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how he had transformed in such a way. Was this normal for his kind? Who were his kind? Did he even have a kind? The questions plagued him. Finally, after the now-retired Matriarch was deemed recovered, he decided that it was time to try changing himself intentionally.
Going back to the pond, he once more stared down at his reflection, then sat and did his best to calm his mind. He had done it before without even realizing - surely he could do it on purpose. Fighting his doubts, he clamped his eyes shut, focusing on the way his body felt. The gems around his neck sparked against him. For the first time, he realized that they had done the same when he last transformed as well. Trying to keep his breathing controlled, his body from moving, his mind from losing focus. The sparking continued, then abruptly gave him one hard zap, and stopped. Time to see if the change had been successful.
Yes, he had changed. No, this wasn’t the body that he had been in when he faced the poachers. He was smaller, it seemed, and had rounder features. Trying several times in the weeks after the attack, he was still only able to take the smaller form; trying to change into the other form merely lengthened his transition into the rounder one. Still, the Patriarch and newly elected Matriarch, as well as his mother, all applauded his role in driving off the poachers, and he was declared an honorary Nidoking, a guardian of the herd. His Nidoran cousins were delighted by this, often swarming him and shouting praise and cheers.
The failure of the poaching attempt seemed to have driven off other poachers, but it also apparently drove off the humans who were welcome in the valley as well. Determined to bring back the woman who made jewelry for the Queens, he left the valley for the first time since he had been found. Not knowing which way to go to find her, he floated upward, looking for lights to follow.
By luck, the jeweler lived in the first town he reached, and that night he approached her home, carefully keeping out of sight but staying close enough to speak with her when she answered his knock at the door. Being the first Pokemon she had ever been able to understand, she was a bit shocked, but vowed not only to bring jewelry for the new Matriarch, but medicines for the entire herd.
Aspear went back to the valley to share news of his request and the jeweler’s agreement, but then announced that he intended to find and punish those who had assaulted his herd. Taking a scrap of cloth that had been torn from a fleeing invader’s outfit, he tied it around his wrist and set off, determined to avenge his mother and cousins for the trauma they had faced.
Sir David clung to the wall, listening for any sounds of movement within the room. He could hear her breathing, but no footsteps. Slowly and cautiously, he peeked into the room.
She was in bed, asleep, holding on to her captive. David frowned, doing his best to keep his own breath from coming too loudly. She had taken the little dragon through stealth and trickery, and he would take it back the same way.
After a few quite moments of contemplation, he made his way into the room. It was carpeted, muffling his footsteps, but to him it seemed as though every little hushing whisper was a loud scraping, threatening him in his quest. He wouldn't let it get to him, though. He had to be brave if he was going to rescue the dragon, because there was a chance that she would wake up.
Step by cautious step brought him closer to his foe and his target. At last, he reached the edge of the bed. Now if was time to make her let go. He had no true plan for this step, except but to hope she was a deep sleeper.
He reached out, gently closing his hands on the dragon's shoulders, and gave a little tug. The dragon's eyes were bright and shining, but it did not make a sound. David was grateful for this. He gave another little tug, and the dragon began to slip out of his captor's arms.
She moved. David froze, holding his breath. If she woke, there was no telling what consequences there would be. She gave a little sigh, wiggled one shoulder, and returned to peaceful motionlessness. David let his breath out as silently as he could, and reached once more for the captive dragon. A gentle tug, not too fast, not too strong.
"Davey. What are you doing?"
He flinched, then turned around to face his mother, whining as his sister opened her eyes and sat up in bed. "Lana stole Draggie again!"
He described the sensation as "a greasy itch, like an allergy cream that don't work." The affected area was red and spreading, drying and darkening in the center about three days after it became uncomfortable. The brown splotches didn't ooze or itch, but the rash kept spreading, and the post-rash patches did not disappear.
His hair grew thick and fast in the browned areas, and he covered his unease with jokes about not having to worry about balding anymore. But suddenly he did have to worry about it; when his whole body had been brown for months, he started shedding across his whole body, until there was no hair left.
And then it was his teeth and nails that grew long and thick. His jaw unable to fully contain the new fangs, he could not close his mouth far enough for his lips to touch, and speech became difficult.
He learned sign language. His fingers grew long.
His skin became drier, flaked, and hardened into scales.
His eyes clouded over, and one day he blinked away a gooey film and found his sight sharper, but colors dulled.
He began growing hair again, short thick wires that sprouted out and covered his scales.
They kept him in a damp room. Doctors came and went, scientists filmed and prodded and questioned him.
His family did not visit. "They're dead," he was told, "just like last time you asked, and the time before that, and so on for decades."
Two of the scientists held their affair in his chamber. Their deaths were an accident, he was just playing jokes.
Someone must have forgotten his meal time. He was not concerned.
We had names. Strong ones, glorious ones. Proud, beautiful names, that no one will remember.
We had been practicing for months. It would be a difficult ruse to pull, but we were confident. So long as they could maintain the illusion of chastity in public, none would suspect their affair.
Our affair.
It wouldn’t have been such a scandal if I weren’t involved. An embarrassment, yes, and a great one at that. But their kingdom saw my kind as nothing but monsters, so a monster I would be. I would snatch her away in public, and when he “attacked” me to “protect” her, I would snatch him away as well.
He was noble, dashing, deeply concerned with honor but moreso with justice. She was elegant, graceful, courteous but not condescending. And I… I just wanted a family.
We’d been practicing for months, going over every possibility we could think of. Evading arrows, deflecting blows, moving as fast as we could. We were going over the possibility of an attack from above, but armor and tree climbing don’t mix. He fell. I caught him. He hadn’t let go of his weapon.
He pulls the sword away, throws his helmet off, staring up at me. He can’t even speak, but on his lips I can read “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the only words he seems to know anymore. She can barely hold herself up as she runs to us, tripping more in those few meters than I’ve seen her do in years. She can still speak, and when she makes her plea, I can see in their eyes that they have made their decision.
I have enough strength to grant their request, and when it is done, I curl myself around their bones.
If we cannot be together in life, death will do just as well.
We met during the summer. I don't remember what year, but I remember the seaweed on the beach the first time we held hands, the bucket full of hermit crabs we collected and then released the day we had our first kiss. I can't count the number of times I slept at her family's beach house, but it was so quaint and calm that we neither dared nor cared to do more under that roof than simply hold each other.
We rented inflatable boats together, paddled out to take turns jumping off it and throwing each other the rope to keep from drifting too far from it. One year we picked up a pair of scuba suits and marched around the beach with snorkels and flippers on, never even going near the water, though until we outgrew them - my chest and her muscles - we wore them almost every time we did go into the water, too.
I don't know what happened to her. Whenever I called her, I only got a busy signal, until the day an automated message announced that the number I was trying to reach had been disconnected. When summer came, I ran to the house we had spent so much time in together, and was greeted with a SOLD sign and a locked door.
I don't know what happened to her. All I have left is the memory of her scent and her name.
There had been no panic in the streets. No hysteria. No rampages, burnings, evacuations. Nothing.
(Okay, there had been a little, but it had been quelled with patient efficiency by military and emergency personnel).
The zombie apocalypse, all in all, had been... very unexceptional. The undead felt no pain, no weariness - and no hunger. They lumbered about in a daze, possessing no sense of self-preservation, expressing no interest in anything. Those who awakened during their own memorial services often didn't even rise from the caskets, merely rocked back and forth, mouthing wordless, soundless syllables. It was theorized, after an estimated 300 reports only included 7 corpses actively attempting to mobilize themselves, that zombies could have been around for years, decades, even centuries, and simply been too listless to make themselves known. The concern was not the zombies themselves, then, but simply what turned them into zombies.
"Active" zombies, those that were by whatever means motivated to rise and wander, were a nuisance, but rarely a threat. The most troublesome consequence they were responsible for was car accidents, and those were with about the same frequency as deer and for the same reason. Zombies on the roads during the day didn't cause terror, just a change in the flow of traffic until some bold sociopath took it on themselves to use their vehicle to nudge the zombie back off the road again. The apathy of the undead often made this an obstacle, and it was soon discovered that the quickest way to deal with a zombie on the road was to stop the car, grab the zombie by the shoulders, and turn them in a different direction.
There was no battle for global conquest. No nights of terror, trying to keep the children quiet for fear of being devoured. Not even much of an opportunity to heroically bash the undead to pulp with a shovel (not that this stopped anyone who did have such an opportunity, heroic or not).
"Would you like more tea, Azganalath?"
"Azganalath?" Karry whispered, looking concerned.
"It's nothing to worry about," her husband assured her. "Just syllables. And really, naming the monster under the bed is better than being afraid of it, wouldn't you say?"
"I suppose so," Karry replied, just a bit slower than if she had truly agreed. Azganalath sounded positively Satanic, in her mind. This was a good Christian household, after all. What would her book club say if they knew her daughter's imaginary friend was evil?
Azganalath was not concerned with religion. It initially didn't understand why Melissa offered it empty plastic teacups instead of her parents' ceramic mugs with actual tea in them, but a few conversations with its peers had enlightened it to the human notion of imagination and it had enjoyed the tea parties much more after that. "Yes, please, Melissa." Its hand slid out from under the bed, holding up the pink heartsy cup. "With lots of sugar."
Melissa smiled. She was holding a real tea party soon, with a real tea set, and she couldn't wait to introduce Azganalath to the rest of her friends.
