Bloody hell! I curse Writer’s Block!
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*
Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks
Title: Broken Glass
Chapter 1
He looked at the crowd, wondering if they had gone mad.
They most likely had.
The Viridian Power is used for healing, but it is not perfect. The Viridian Power cannot bring the dead back to life.
That is where they fell.
He thinks that it’s his brother’s fault, the one who praised him as a saint and got the whole village wrapped up in the mess.
He’s not an angel, whatever they think, though they have no right to burn him as a witch either…
He’s angry. But it doesn’t matter. They’ve already piled the faggots of wood up around his legs, chained him to the wooden post…
As the flames consume him, he reaches inside of himself, and finds the magic of killing, the magic that he never used… the magic to weave lies and illusions… the magic to soar with the winds and to change the minds of others, to reduce people to puppets…
He casts the Healing magic from his soul – he’ll need it no longer, as the blaze consumes him, and he screams…
And somewhere in the depths of hell, they must hear him, because they save his life… and destroy the village in the process.
*Time jump – 10 years later*
He looks up and sees a girl standing near him. He fixes her with a glare. She doesn’t move. Interesting… now that he thinks about it, she looks slightly familiar…
And then he realizes exactly who she is.
“Little sister…”
She’s grown up – looks his age now, or the age he would have been if – no, that’s not quite right, either. After the incident, he didn’t age any more.
“I missed you. I don’t care what you are.” She says, as she throws herself into his arms, and he laughs and holds her close.
Her hair is as blue as the sky, contrasting his own fiery hair, but oh, it doesn’t matter, not at all… because their eyes are identical, dragon’s eyes…
And that’s what counts, because they are dragons at heart. They couldn’t burn the draconic magic that was his soul out of him after all…
“Did you run away?”
“It wasn’t planned, but yes.”
“Why?”
“Water – I can control it…”
“That’s different from what I had.”
“I know, yours at least had… practical applications, for a time, but they tried to burn me, since the trial by water probably wouldn’t work, you know…”
“Of course.”
“I got away, wasn’t too difficult…” Clair frowned. “Only had to forfeit my life there in exchange, and gain dragon…”
“Of course.” Lance repeated. “But even so… I’m glad you got away from them, little sister.”
“I’m glad you’re not dead… I thought you might be, but…”
“Shh. it’s okay. Go ahead and cry.”
Tears…
“You can still cry?”
“You can’t?” She sounds surprised.
Lance laughed. “No… seems we got different paths. You’re Kingdra, I’m…” He frowned, “Not quite sure what I am yet.”
That made sense. Kingdra rose from a water pokemon, so they could still cry…
She idly wondered if Lance was Charizard or Aerodactyl – his hair and eyes could certainly fit those, but they had all the time in the world to ponder.
Dragons live for a thousand years after all….
Three days after, he flew off. It wasn’t her fault, but she understood. Dragons didn’t stay in close proximity with each other, unless they were the same type. It just didn’t feel right. And genetics were only so far in all cases…
Lance smiled as he walked into the cavern. For some reason, this place always felt… safe, like home. He’d been taken here by… well, someone, when the flames burned his humanity away….
Even though it was empty, he liked it.
He closed his eyes as he walked to a small cavern he had taken to living in and stretched out on the crystal, feeling a slight tug as his wings let themselves free. Lovely, sharp-edged steel razors…
He didn’t know if any dragons were part steel. It was implausible. It didn’t make any sense…
But it didn’t matter. He closed his eyes and let dreams claim him…
Dreams were nice. In dreams, he could forget. And as he dreamed, he could pretend that the fire had never happened and that he was still himself.
Sometimes, he felt that the dragon was making him less human, but he was starting to care less and less.
He couldn’t wait until he was old enough and could take dragon form….
That would be perfect.
He wouldn’t have to care about humanity anymore…
End Chapter
Completed 8/2/05
Yep…a slightly shorter intro… I’m tired…
Lance: Oh?
Ash: *hugs Phantomness*
Phantomness: *sniff* Thanks, Ash
Yes, I somehow sent Lance back to the time of the Puritans and so he was burned at the stake, or something like that. Too much influence from other things, like Witch of Blackbird Pond, not that that’s a bad book…
I am a bird!
Phantomness hates her contact lenses. They make typing very hard for her.
Zzz…
Kairo: Maybe the contacts are driving her a lil’ crazy too…