Thread: [Pokemon] The Origin of Storms (PG-13)
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Old 10-22-2008, 07:24 AM
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Default Re: The Origin of Storms (PG-13)

And so we have arrived at this story’s end. Now, let us conclude The Origin of Storms.

_________________

Chapter 17 – Lifeforce


It was like resurrection.

His spirit rose up from the depths of the nothingness that had been occupying him. His voice rose, as well, in a crescendo that kept growing with each repetition of the truth that had brought him back to his senses:

“She’s here! She’s here!”

She was here. Even after all these years, to his great surprise and even greater delight, she still remembered him… and, he hoped, still loved him. And at long last, she was returning to his life. Any moment now, she might arrive in the room where he was being held, rescue him, and take him back into her embrace…

You fool.

The hollow voice droned from deep within his mind. Its strength and the way that it addressed Esaax so directly, completely unbidden, made its true nature horribly clear to Esaax. The cold and empty voice that had just spoken to him represented none other than the warped and malignant darkness residing within himself. It was no longer merely a part of him—it had become a separate entity lurking within him, a parasite trying to take his life for its own.

Your senses lie. Your joy is an illusion.

That’s not true! Esaax argued internally. He felt and recognized the distinct psychic signature of Ntairow’s presence and could not deny that he did. What that signature represented had changed, but who it signified was unmistakable to his senses and memory.

You delude yourself. You will not have her.

You’re wrong! Esaax said, silently and firmly. She’s here for me—

—But she will not stay. She abandoned you before, and will only abandon you again. Forget her.

“No!” Esaax shouted, speaking aloud now. “She’ll be here soon, and we will have each other again. She’s gonna save me!”

No one will save you. Nothing is left for you. Forget her. Forget yourself.

No! You’re wrong!” Esaax shouted, fighting to defy and destroy the darkness through sheer force of will.

But the power of the living darkness would not be denied. It literally rose to his surface, to visibility, manifesting itself in thin streaks of black energy that snaked over his skin like dark vines. They crept out over his entire body and then merged together, leaving every square inch of his skin emitting the black glow of the parasitic darkness.

I am this body now, not you, it said. Your time is long past over. Give up.

“No, I refuse to!”

The darkness erupted into a seething, black aura around Esaax. Give up, it pressed.

I REFUSE!”

As the kwazai’s defiant roar faded, the darkness found itself possessed of a cold, absolute hatred, a feeling stronger than anything that it had felt in its hours-long existence. In the face of what seemed to him like a real hope for salvation, Esaax had become too strong to simply erase—this would not do, the darkness determined at once with a savage resolve.

There will be no hope, no strength, no life for you, it declared hatefully. I will make you accept this. I will make you pray for oblivion!

The darkness unleashed a massive, hollow roar within Esaax’s mind. It seemed to retreat back into the corners of Esaax’s mind from whence it had come, the dark aura vanishing and revealing his blue skin once more—but then the darkness sent a bolt of its power shooting down Esaax’s spine, dealing grievous damage to his pseudobrain before seeming to explode in a burst of pain within the end of his tail, temporarily distorting the perception of his oculons.

A split-second later, there was a bright, orange flash, and Esaax was shocked out of breath and onto his knees.

* * *

As Syr slithered along behind Solonn, trying very hard but with scant success not to think about just what he was following, he felt something pull sharply on his tail and heard a loud thud. He looked back and saw that Ntairow had dropped Karo and gone totally rigid.

“What is it?” Syr asked.

“Esaax,” Ntairow said, pain and fear both present in her tone. “He’s returned to my perception—and he’s in pain…”

“What?! How bad is it?” Syr demanded worriedly.

“It’s horrible… Dear Night, it’s like his own body is rejecting him…”

“We’re almost there,” Solonn tried to assure her from where he now hovered in place, but his tone and the look on his face suggested that he had become fairly worried himself.

His assurance seemed to be unnecessary, however—no sooner had he spoken than Ntairow rushed out in front of him, staggering slightly and clutching her head in pain but still managing to move fairly quickly, apparently using her now fully restored perception of Esaax to guide her.

Now that Ntairow was no longer helping him carry Karo, Syr couldn’t hope to keep up with her. Still, he opted to try, not wanting at all to be left behind with the glalie—but before he could move an inch, he felt something lift the nosepass in his grip off of the ground. He turned and saw Karo being swiftly elevated on a pillar of ice, which then deposited him on top of the head of the glalie behind him, with the end of Syr’s tail still wrapped around the unconscious nosepass.

With most of his body now off of the ground, Syr was forced to either try to convince the glalie to put Karo back down or else release his own hold on him. The former very quickly ceased to feel like an option, however; the glalie simply intimidated him too much for him to find it within himself to challenge what she had done… and besides which, underneath it all, he did recognize that she was sincerely trying to help, and as much as he would have preferred not to need the help of her or any others of her kind, he fell short of ingratitude.

“…Thanks,” he managed, his voice coming out as little more than a squeak.

“No problem,” the glalie said, securing the nosepass to her head with ice as she spoke, and then she took off after Solonn and Ntairow. Syr hastened to follow her, still not altogether comfortable with the notion of leaving Karo unsupervised with one of them and spurred on further still by the sound of Ntairow screaming.

Soon, they caught up with Ntairow and Solonn, who had just halted before a large pair of metal doors, the former leaning against the latter. Ntairow was silent now but grimacing in pain, one hand still holding her head.

Once everyone had come to a stop there, “This is Sylvester DeLeo, requesting entry,” Solonn said, at which Syr’s eyes widened in surprise—not because of what the glalie had said but how he’d said it. He’d sounded nothing like he had before; the voice that he’d just used was quite a bit higher. But what really caught Syr’s attention was that Solonn had spoken in a human language there—some corner of his mind fleetingly wondered if he were just mimicking the words or if, like someone whom Syr had known so many years ago, this glalie actually spoke the language fluently.

“Voice recognition confirmed,” said a computerized voice from an unseen source. “Please state password.”

“Password,” Solonn responded, still using the higher voice and the human language.

“Password valid,” said the computerized voice. “Access granted.”

The doors slid open, and with the unconscious nosepass in tow, the four entered a room of moderate size that was more brightly lit than the rest of the Hope Institute. The scene now surrounding them was like a gallery of pre- and post-Extinction high technology.

And in the center of it all was Esaax, slumped in his containment field. He was all too plainly suffering, panting and groaning with his tail lashing and his hands gripping his head.

Ntairow rushed to him at once, pressing all four of her hands against the wall of energy as tears streamed from her widened eyes. The need to help this creature whose agony she shared burned within her, made all the more urgent and painful by stemming from the suffering of someone whom she loved. Right before her eyes, not to mention her more potent senses, Esaax was heading toward a highly volatile state. He direly needed her… but she could not get to him.

“How do you get him out of this thing?!” she demanded.

“Over here!” Solonn called, and he led Ntairow over to a control panel.

“I don’t know how to use this!” Ntairow told him.

“It’s all right; I do. Just do exactly as I tell you, and we’ll have him right out in no time,” Solonn said.

Syr very briefly watched Ntairow and Solonn work to free Esaax, hoping that they would indeed do so as quickly as Solonn had claimed that they would. He then returned his gaze to Esaax with difficulty, swallowing against a lump in his throat. “You’re… you’re going to be all right,” he told Esaax as consolingly as he could manage, beginning to move closer to the kwazai as he spoke.

Esaax shook his head and raised a hand palm-outward as if in warning, at which Syr halted. The kwazai’s jaws parted as though he were about to say something, but his voice was cut off before it could even form a single word when a burst of searing, orange light suddenly blazed into being around him. He then cried out yet again as a enormous spasm tore through his body.

At that same instant, Ntairow convulsed likewise, echoing Esaax’s scream in her empathy. She staggered, and Solonn moved quickly to break her fall.

“Dear Holy Night, he’s tearing himself apart!” Ntairow cried.

“You’re almost finished!” Solonn assured her.

Sure enough, the containment field soon vanished with a faint humming sound. Ntairow ran back to Esaax, dropping into something like a kneeling position and throwing all of her arms around him upon reaching him, crying against his chest as she embraced the newly-freed kwazai tightly.

Esaax lowered his forehead against hers and held it there as steadily as it could given that he was now shaking uncontrollably, his own tears sliding swiftly down his muzzle and falling to the floor. “Ntairow…” he said, his voice hoarse and quavering. “I’m—” He broke off briefly, giving another pained groan, at which Ntairow embraced him even tighter. “I’m glad you’re here. I’d… given up on us ever finding each other again,” he admitted, closing his eyes in shame.

“I should have found you sooner…” Ntairow lamented in a pained voice that barely exceeded a whisper. “Dear Night, look at you… you’re so broken…” Esaax had gone into autoempathic crisis, she knew. That was something that she couldn’t repair—it was something that no one could repair until he was elementally stabilized. He just had so terribly little time…

“I don’t think you can fix me now,” Esaax said quietly. “I’m… I’m not gonna make it.”

“No,” Ntairow said fiercely, resolutely. “You will survive this… and your son will finally get to know the father he’s been missing all these years…”

Esaax just stared at Ntairow for a moment with eyes filled with disbelief and wonder. Then a smile spread along his muzzle in spite of his pain. “…You’re serious?”

Ntairow nodded. “He is called Zerzekai. And unless I am mistaken, he has just begun his life as a wobbuffet,” she informed Esaax proudly.

Esaax managed a faint but joyous laugh, then wrapped his arms around Ntairow, squeezing her as hard as his now rapidly-waning strength would allow.

Though Esaax’s body was growing steadily weaker, his spirit seemed to have grown stronger than Ntairow suspected it to have been all night. That, she knew, made this an especially good time to try and help him shed his excess darkness. Concentrating deeply, she tapped into her psychic element, aggravating and intensifying its susceptibility to psybane in the hopes of drawing the darkness in like a gravitational force.

Immediately, however, she found that something wasn’t right. Esaax had a massive surplus of dark energy, one that seemed to be growing by the second, but the excess of elemental power was not responding as it should have been under the given circumstances. Instead of spilling over into the receptive psychic who opened her element so readily to it, the darkness remained stubbornly in place, continuing to build up inside of Esaax.

Then the darkness chose to respond in its own way.

With absolutely no warning, a black aura flared around Esaax. In virtually the same instant, under the control of the darkness, Esaax roared in a voice as vast and hollow as the depths of space and fired a reflux of unnaturally great speed and power at Ntairow, striking her with devastating force. Her aura immediately flashed bright pink in an autonomic and futile mirror coat response as she collapsed from the augmented strike, scattered black patches forming on her skin as she hit the ground.

The recoil from the overcharged reflux blast was enormous and instantaneous, and as it struck Esaax, he was simultaneously assaulted from within by a massive autoempathic shock. The dark aura that surrounded Esaax then suddenly detached itself and took to the air with a hollow-sounding howl, which allowed a now erratically-flashing, orange counter aura to show around the now screaming kwazai whom it had left behind.

An ice beam and a volley of poison sting needles flew forth in an attempt to arrest the shadow’s flight, while the sharp sound of a sheer cold attack that was fired off with the same intent rang out at the same time. The disembodied darkness evaded all of the attacks effortlessly as it rushed swiftly through the air, destroying equipment and killing the lights as it swept in a circle around the room. It then smashed into the wall and burned a hole through it and the walls beyond it to the outside, where it seemed to dissipate and vanish completely.

With the shroud of living darkness now lifted from him, Esaax was left as a regular, ruined kwazai. A final few sparks of orange energy flashed around him, and then the autoempathic attack ceased. Esaax then toppled over onto his side, panting arrhythmically, blood now flowing freely from his eyes and mouth.

As if in slow motion, Syr was only just beginning to feel the tears escaping his eyes as he stared at the two kwazai before him. “…Esaax?” he spoke up tentatively, his voice barely able to come to his summons. He heard Solonn say something in the background about checking to see if the paramedics had arrived yet, but the words didn’t quite register in Syr’s brain as they ordinarily might have; all that he could really focus on was the sight of Esaax before him, who gave not a single word in response. “Esaax!” Syr cried out, fearing the worst.

There was a slight movement before Syr’s eyes then. Esaax raised his head, albeit only barely. Syr called out to him again, but Esaax seemed not to notice, and the arbok was sure at once as to why.

Esaax’s gaze had found Ntairow, at the sight of whom he gave a very faint, pained sound. With an immense effort, he rolled onto his belly and pulled himself up to lie beside her. As he lifted a shaking hand and extended it toward Ntairow, he prayed that he had lifeforce enough for what he intended to do…

Esaax laid his hand upon Ntairow’s greater right arm, upon a patch of skin that hadn’t been scorched by the dark attack. A soft, multicolored glow surrounded him, then spread from the point where his hand rested upon her until it radiated from every square inch of her skin, as well.

Syr stared at him with fear, his breath hitching in his chest. He felt a strong urge to rush over to Esaax and stop him—especially since the arbok knew that if Esaax succeeded in what he was doing, he would be giving up some of his lifeforce, and Syr was all too sure that the kwazai had terribly little left to spare.

Before Syr could even begin to act on that urge, however, the light surrounding the two kwazai suddenly grew to such an intensity that he found himself recoiling from it involuntarily, his eyes shutting tight. Unseen by any in attendance, the shared aura swelled into a small, bright dome around Esaax and Ntairow as the lifeforce of the former flowed into the latter. The aura then burst into a cloud of tiny, colorful sparks, which fell in a brief, luminous shower over the two kwazai.

As the last sparks fell, Esaax looked down upon Ntairow, who was now fully restored. He smiled gently and kissed her forehead. Then he lay down next to her and quietly exhaled his last breath.

Ntairow drew a sudden, sharp breath, awake in an instant. She sat up abruptly, then immediately rolled over onto her hands and folded legs, her shoulders heaving as she coughed and sputtered uncontrollably.

Once her body relaxed, she began looking about frantically in confusion. Her eyes fell upon Esaax, who was surrounded now by no colors other than the deep blue of his own shed blood. She knew instantly what had just transpired.

Her cry of sorrow rang out for a very, very long moment.

Meanwhile, Syr could only stare at the scene before him at first. He began to draw slowly closer to the two kwazai as Ntairow’s cry faded out, still dragging Karo behind him. He finally reached them, and for a moment he just looked down at Esaax through blurred vision. Then he turned his sights toward Ntairow, seeing her burying her face in two of her hands while the other two cradled Esaax’s head, her whole body shaking as she wept for the lifeless kwazai.

Without really thinking, Syr released his hold on Karo and draped the end of his tail across Ntairow’s shoulders. She turned to face him, and at first she looked as though she wanted to tell him to go away… but then that expression faded, and she only looked weary and broken. Her head sank, and she extended an arm to embrace Syr, and as the minutes passed, the two of them mourned Esaax without a single word.

* * *

Last edited by Sike Saner; 04-10-2011 at 08:29 PM. Reason: Revisions.
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