Heh, finally! The question is: are dreams caused by excess or lack?
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*
Chapter 12
“Are you angry with me, sweet one?”
“Of course not. For you had your Fate to follow, and my temporary guardianship was up. The paralysis was quite uncomfortable though.”
“I am glad for that.”
They kissed.
The desert loomed before the adventurers. Koga and Aya were busy haggling with a merchant about transportation – they had to rent camels, after all – and Lance was buying provisions.
Ash was trying to see further, but obviously, Sight was not his gift. He did, however, manage to summon a Sandslash, which he promptly captured, so it was not a total loss.
After a few moments, the camels were theirs, and loaded with supplies, they set off across the great southern desert. It was very hot and Ash was very glad they had purchased white nomad robes.
He did not enjoy camel-riding one bit though!
They were left relatively alone, though they did have to mercilessly butcher several cacti when their supplies of water ran low. All in all, it was a dry, dusty few days, and no one had anything but water and a bath on their minds by the time they reached the castle. Even the sense of evil coming from it was hardly enough to deter them.
Aya went inside first, to scout, Koga lending her his escape rope just in case she needed a quick way out.
She didn’t.
She found the place empty, cool and dank, which was odd in the middle of a desert but there was an underwater pool right under the castle, gushing clear, cold water. That was enough invitation for the others to follow them in.
They all stripped off their dusty clothing and spent an enjoyable afternoon soaking in cold, clear water – in separate pools, of course. Aya had her own, and Koga had decided he did not want to share. In any case, there were three pools, all separated by walls of high granite rock.
They bathed, and then when they emerged, found warm towels of fluffy yellow waiting for them, and upon heading upstairs, they found a magnificent repast, freshly prepared. Tapestries richly wrought on damask in glittery threads ornamented the walls, interspersed with the heads of trophy animals and expensive weapons.
By this time, the travelers were heartily sick of trail rations, so without considering the implications, they fell to.
Such a pity!
Afterwards, they headed upstairs to bed. They found bedrooms all waiting, clean linen starched stiffly in sheets, canopies of velvet and silk and satin depicting scenes of gentle repose.
Ash and Lance claimed one of the bedrooms, and after they had set their packs down and changed into the clothing provided in the adjoining closet, they hardly looked like themselves any longer.
Lance looked magnificent, with a robe of pale icy blue cinched round his waist with a girdle of silver threads. Ash was wearing yellow so fine it was almost gold, and if he looked at it the right way – well!
Lance smirked. “Charming.”
“Do you really think so?” Ash breathed.
“Indeed. My precious one…” Lance held out his arms, and Ash moved closer, scarcely daring to breathe, afraid to break the enchantment. Their lips met and he had to stifle an anguished moan of desire. Oh…!
Long fingers trailed down his front, parted the robe at his hips, cupped the swelling there. “Do you give yourself willingly?”
“With all my heart.” Surely… fog hazed over his mind and he thought no more of the implications, as he felt himself lowered onto silk, deliciously cool beneath his bare flesh. Then there was pain, but there was pleasure behind the pain, and he cried out as they chased each other higher and higher up the golden mountain…
And in the moment of final ecstasy, a terrible lightning flashed behind his eyes, and as they dropped back down to earth, exhausted, they saw the fruits of their joining. The sword glittered there, a blade of forged lightning in a hilt of gold.
He watched as it fell before them with a silent thump.
Ash smiled sweetly as he closed his fingers around the hilt, and felt it sing. He had heard the sword songs before, of course, but they had always been for others. This Song belonged wholly to him…
But it was a sad song.
He had expected glorious triumph, but he only found sorrow, a cold, dull sorrow… and then, he understood why.
He was dying.
He vaguely registered that fact. He could feel the warmth of their encounter draining away through his fingers, pooling down into the two Swords he held. Ice and Dragon, but more Ice…
He shivered, but it changed nothing. His eyes lost their golden hue and became flat, mirrored silver. His hair streaked, red running to white…
It was ending.
Why?
She was already dead. White hair and white eyes in a white face, the only life in the empty shrine the faintest hint of red in a sword… what sword?
There was nothing.
The hilt was bronze, but there was no blade.
Why?
Lightning blazed brightly, so brightly, but the lightning was no longer brilliant gold. It was darkening, becoming a dark black that seemed to suck all the light in the world away.
Why?
“Lance…. Why?”
There was no reply.
He stared. Silver armor crawled over pale skin, extended into steel wings, protective swords, but there was no life there any more.
He cried. And the moment he cried, the Swords flew to him. The ice had melted. The fire had gone out. All he had were three hilts, one of bronze, one of silver… and one of gold, and the blade was of black thunder.
Was he the cause of this?
How was he to fix it?
He had to know!
He screamed his anguish to the night sky, and for a second, he could have sworn he heard a voice on the wind.
End Chapter
Completed 5/28/06
Created 5/27/06