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

Chapter 9

 

            Marianne was a perfectly normal girl, with brown hair and freckles, and it was easy for Ash to fall in love with her. He didn’t mind playing the brave man as she clung to him, didn’t mind sitting and cuddling with her and kissing under the stars and finally, becoming intimate. He banished all thought of Lance from his mind and found that as long as he didn’t think about it in great detail, their relationship was quite pleasant indeed.

            However, it was not to be. Almost overnight, Team Galactic emerged from Shinou, swiftly taking over Houen and Cosmos, and then moving onto Kanto and Johto. If that was not deadly enough, a mysterious plague began sweeping through the land.

            When he angrily stormed to Serebii’s Shrine in the Ilex Forest, demanding the legendary in residence for an explanation, Serebii told him that only the Sacred Shield could protect him, and only the Sacred Sword could destroy Team Galactic.

            Ash did not believe it at first, but when his pokemon – his beloved pokemon – almost died, and even with his power as Destiny he kept them only an inch from death, and was unable to heal them any further, he knew that Serebii had spoken the truth, and when Marianne coughed blood the first night, he knew that he needed the Shield.

            He had no clue where to find these weapons, but Lance would know, so he put his anger and hatred on the back burner and went to find the trainer again.

 

            He found Lance easily enough, still in the same almost-castle where some of the Chosen preferred to live, and the Dragon Master greeted him cordially enough.

            “I need the Sword.” Ash spoke. “And the Shield.”

            “The Sacred Weapons?” Lance had asked. “Why?”

            Why? Lance, people and pokemon are dying out there every day! But you don’t care about any of that, do you? You’re just a selfish bastard!” Ash had snapped, angrily. “You don’t deserve the power you’ve been given! You sure as hell don’t use it!”

            Lance had said nothing, stifling the protests in his heart – about how as Dragon Master; he had duties to perform, about how the very act of Balancing tore one’s soul and spirit to shreds, about the act he was even now following to keep Ash in one piece.

            He spoke not of the tests and pitfalls worked for the Chosen, about the power that stole their sanity away even as they bathed their hands in blood, about the dark nightmares that wracked even the most sensible and the madness that dogged his heels.

            He just smiled.

 

            “What is it to you?”

            “You know where they are then.” Ash accused.

            “Of course.” Lance said. “I am still older than you.”

            “You aren’t using them. Give them to me.” Ash demanded.

            “I cannot.”

            That had been the straw that had broken the camel’s back, he decided, watching Ash’s features twist from mild anger into absolute revulsion.

            “You’re nothing but worthless scum, Lance! How dare you sit here safely in your castle and pretend that everything is going well! My pokemon and my fiancée are dying and you won’t even help them! Well, if you won’t help me then I’ll just take them from you! You don’t deserve them anyway!”

           

            Ash had transformed then, fully into Destiny, and Lance had toyed with him, for his darkness easily swallowed the shadows Ash’s cards were, and finally, Ash had drawn the Thunder Blade on him.

            He had watched, amused, and the Sacred Shield had hissed into existence around him, protecting him and throwing Ash backwards into a wall with the force of the power.

            Ash had stared at him then, aghast.

            “What- Why-?”

            “The Sacred Shield and the Sacred Sword are mine.” Lance said. “You will not take them from me.”

            Ash had spent quite a while cursing at him, causing Lance to wonder where the boy had mastered such a colorful vocabulary of crude taste, but finally, something else had snapped.

            “You killed her, didn’t you?” Ash had yelled, secure in his self-righteousness.

            “Who?”

            “The Guardian before you. You killed her to get the Shield. You probably raped her too. No one would have given it to you willingly!”

            “I don’t deny it.” It was half a truth, but enough of one.

            Ash’s eyes had blazed red then, and that was when Lance knew that it was over.

            “Give. Them. To. Me.”

            “You’ll have to kill me first.” Lance rejoined, and visualized his Ice Blade. The silver handle slid into his hand, the blade of jagged ice clashing with the black lightning of Ash’s Thunder Blade.

            It would not take long.

 

            He moved slowly, letting Ash think that he was soft, unused to the dueling, and moments later, Ash disarmed him with a triumphant smirk, placing the tip of his sword at Lance’s throat for a second, just to make his point perfectly clear. Slowly, Lance called the Sacred Shield back, coalescing the power into a round golden disk, which he handed to the trainer.

            Ash’s smile was positively gleeful. “Now the Sword.”

            “I-.”

            “No excuses.” Ash hissed. “You lost. Now give me the Sword.”

            “Very well.” Lance spoke. “Step backwards please. Yes, that will do nicely.”

            Ash was confused as Lance knelt, clasping his hands in front of his chest. Though one part of him decided it was probably respect since he had defeated the other guardian, another part was starting to remember…

            The moment he died, the false memories would whisk away and the true ones would filter through. Lance knew that well, but there was no helping it.

            It was a pity. But he had succeeded, and now, everything would be all right. Ash was powerful enough, and would gain power upon his death. He could take care of Team Galactic and the disease, and in any case, Marianne was just a convenient puppet.

            Serebii would dispose of her once he was dead, to prevent Ash from any unnecessary emotional entanglements anyway.

            Feeling a sharp twinge of pain, he almost smiled, before he reached inside of himself and pulled.

 

            Ash watched, suddenly feeling horrified. Lance’s eyes were wide with pain as the Sacred Sword emerged from his chest, handle first, dripping wetly with dark blood.

            “You have won.” Lance’s voice was dull, as he held it out. “Take it.”

            Ash’s hands were shaking when he did, and he almost missed Lance’s whispered words.

            “We are all pawns. You knew the truth once.”

            With that, his eyes closed and he spoke no more.


End Chapter

Completed 7/25/07

Poor Lance. *Bawls*

Ash: *Cries* It’s not fair! How was I supposed to know he was faking?

Phantomness: *Shrug*

… Strangely enough, this is what Kishimoto did with Itachi and Sasuke. I’m not sure I like that…