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Nintendofreak000
12-03-2004, 03:15 AM
...Wow...I really can't remember when I last wrote a piece of Pokemon Fanfiction. Just to keep some traffic flowing I think I'll write one. Just something to do when the Ragnarok Server's are down and the rare times that I don't have any work to do.

..::Transcend::..

"Follow the fundamental principles, and the "infinite energy" of Tai-Chi is invincible. You would have to grow extra arms in order to reach a stage of greater value." - Li Xian, Forty Fifteen CE [4015 Cosmic Era]


Chapter 1-

I threw down my shovel as I stepped back to review my progress. Over the short period of a year, I went from a traveler of the world, to the destroyer of lives to a digger of graves. Had I not been there, the bodies of those of my friends who sacrificed their lives to ensure the safety of their families, friends, undeserving people such as myself, would be exposed to the maggots of heat and ridicule. These were the valiant victims of "Dongzhisa", or the Eastern Suicide. I dusted myself off, and viewed my work. Mounds of the deceased gridlocked the former rice paddies of the city of Sanshan [3 Mountains]. I knelt besides Raine's final resting place and whispered a prayer of blessing toward his after-life as I thought to my good friend and comrade. I scanned the row of crude sepulchres. Saru, James, Seamus, Denon; the members of the Divine Fallen, the guerilla faction set to ultimately overthrow the tyrany that overtook the province, succeeded, with a grave price, that each were willing to pay. In a moment of discomposure, I drew out my "Qian" [Oriental one-handed falchion. 19in. x 2.5in. single edged] in one hand and held Raine's iron spear in the other. In a mournful tune, my blade sung a mournful ballad of combat as metal met metal on the long shaft of the spear as I crudely scratched "Raine : 5012 CE". I impaled the weapon north of the body and proceeded to the shovel I had dropped previously. I spun Qian twice in quick succession and I crudely scratched out "Forever, The Divine Fallen". The Divine Fallen has fallen for the last time.

5017 CE -
I sometimes wonder how I'm alive today. Its been 6 years since the end of the universally shocking event of the overthrow of the Leylen empire: the War of 4 Provinces, a war where men and their pocket monsters fought each other, brother versus brother, monster versus men, and men versus monster. The last thing I remember seems to be Raine's furious viridian eyes as he yelled something uncomprehensible to me in the heat of battle. His Nidoking wrestled off charging Rhydons as he and his small group audaciously defended the final chokepoint, Chien'an Bridge, to keep our division from being flanked. The day of Dongzhisa, the ultimate penalty of our alchemy, where rebel men and monsters, trained only in the art of believing in their cause, totalling about 1090, were pitted against the imperial Leylen army of the East Sun, an army four times their size. In a world where conflicts are washed clean solely by blood, I wish to never be a part of another...

Six years since I discharged myself from The Divine Fallen Special Forces of Ten'an. The other factions, The Forsaken of Zhenguo, The Ahura Order of Nanfang and The House of Feidao of Jinsan; they most likely were disbanded as well, if they had any survivors left. As I turned away, I felt the chill of another nearby. I ran into a tall, sharply dressed man. I had seen him before, the tall man in blue uniform. He was an ambassador from Nanfang to Sanshan, to deliver the province's diplomatic actions against the Leylen empire. He bowed and looked around, stern eyed and saddened.

"You were responsible for burying all these men?" He asked.

"The area reeks with the regrets of the dead"

To be Continued...