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The Eternally Guilty Sun: 3.0 [IC]

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Ike's breath was coming hard at this point. Exhilarated as he'd been earlier, his body was tiring quickly in the wake of the storm-grey dragon's furious sprint. But he knew it wasn't long now; the trees would have to part soon. Surely they would. Stormcatcher wouldn't unnecessarily hinder himself. He could hardly tolerate even the barest of hindrances even now.


No sooner than he thought it, at last, the forest began to thin and open. He instinctively slowed his stride as his field of vision opened up.


But what awaited him at the clearing's entrance was something he could only imagine in the worst of his wakeful nightmares.




He threw up an arm as a wave of pure magical energy blew over him and his surroundings, flattening the blades of grass and scorching their ends. When he dared to move it, he found himself mostly unharmed, but something like a numbness pervaded on the skin of his lips. Just as his eyes reevaluated the scene, a sickening snap resounded across the field, and a shrill, rattling scream cut the air like a razor's edge. In the middle of the magical maelstrom, a twisting heap of brilliant gold and arcing blue unwound and aroused, and when they split from one another, there stood the raptorial Stormcatcher combatant to some odd, spindly and bleeding draconid. Their ungainly limbs seemed to heave under the strain of each of their breaths, and the glowing bulbs strung from their body dimmed and brightened in rhythmic time. From where he was standing he could see their eyes, pupil-less and large, and from their head sprung two thin, long ears. Under segmented wings, the dragon looked so much like a giant insect, and their wedge-shaped face was run with large crimson gashes--recently dealt, if Ike's familiarity with such wounds was to be believed. 


The two great serpents eyed each other, both mute, communicating instead through the shows of ferocity on their faces and in their postures--tension, malice, bloodthirst. Ike had yet to see the extent of Stormcatcher's destruction, but he imagined it vividly. He had to stop it before it got worse.



His eyes were dragged away from the scene as Thuban rounded in the sky above him. He traced where they'd flown to back down to a pair of familiarly-dressed figures in the distance--




A harsh sound came up his throat. Ike nearly cursed the girl's name.




He couldn't believe her! He'd issued a specific order to return once she'd seen anything! And maybe it wouldn't have done much good once Stormcatcher had arrived, but she should have at least fallen back and regrouped! What had prompted her to remain, he wondered? Whatever it was, he'd get his answer, one way or another. For now, he had a pair of dragons to deal with. He made to leave for their position--


"I believe it's our intention to stop Stormcatcher from leveling the entire forest?"


Ike turned to see Cyil standing just feet from him, holding herself with that quiet poise he'd begun to identify her with. It was too familiar, what with her dark hair and red eyes--almost deceptively so. But Ike wasn't about to pretend there was anything more of consequence to glean from her carriage in comparison to Soren. Everyone's stories ran deeper and were much richer than the surfaces they were presented by. He nodded to her question in response.


"Preferably. And before anyone gets hurt if we can. I'm happy to hear your take on things, but make it quick."


And to him, she affirmed, "Let us regroup with the others first."



With a splash of liquid, Cyil was gone in a flash, practically evaporating with the speed her powers took her through the field. Ike wasted no time following behind, but not before looking back once more for any trace of his mage friend.


He'll be fine. He knows exactly what he's doing.



It'd be lying to say Soren hadn't expected things to progress to their natural state of ruin. There was a point in which he had managed a vantage point on Stormcatcher, but his attempts at blocking his path had been fruitless, to put it lightly. Any fear the dragon had expressed at the elements had suddenly vanished under an intoxicating slurry of rage and adrenaline, bashing down his icy spears and crushing any number of felled trees in his way. Soren spat out an expression of disgust as the beast rushed far out of range of his magic; he was forced to channel the Wind spirits rushing through him into the ground to empower his speed. His attempt to cut Stormcatcher's rampage had failed--the only route he could take was the one back to Ike. His feet carried him with swiftness across the debris-strewn undergrowth, eyes ever-focused on the treeline ahead. 


Just before he could reach it, he made out the harsh hiss of Stormcatcher's voice. It was no sentence, nothing so complex, but a single word. A single, sawblade utterance.




Soren looked up.



What stood only yards him was another massive, disgusting, eldritch miscreation that wore the sick semblance of a dragon as its hide. Bright as the sun and and gangly as a shadow, the spidery serpent taunted, "Hello, Stormcatcher. Now what's got your tail in a twist, something little again?" 


Stormcatcher's reply was even more vitriolic. "You're almost worse than Shadowbinder."


Oh? A bit on the nose, I see. Soren didn't pretend to know either entity, but perhaps there was some overlap. Perhaps more of his kin? Or, as it seemed regardless, his enemies? Something to note, at the very least. He'd be sure to report these findings to Ike as soon as he arrived.


But he'd heard dragons bicker before. If this was all it'd simply be, he'd rather just ignore it and pike the wretch from the air and have it over with. But, as he'd learned over time, patience served so much more than as just a virtue, as with it came rewards reaped in folds. Soren stayed where he stood, just for the moment, before a very, very curious piece of knowledge was imparted onto him:


"You're not much better. We are aeons old, but I sometimes wonder if you really did join us in the Pillar of the World aeons ago... child of water and wind."





Soren's eyes widened. The light played across them--interested, investigative. 





"Do not call me that."




The glint of talons--

--streaks of blood--


A roar of defiance.



Soren darted into the underbrush as a flurry of leaves and sticks kicked up in a whirlwind where the gold abomination took wing. With Stormcatcher making the first blow, it was clear to him that the danger of their encounter with this stranger had began its climb. Soren was completely disinterested in the scathing screeches he left behind--he had his intel. Nothing else mattered. Now, he had only to make way to the others and relay his strategy.


Of course. How could I have possibly missed it? Water and Wind...his reactions to them and this 'Lightweaver;--it's almost too clear. 


Ike would have exited somewhere in the western treeline, so he made his way to it. He ignored the pulses of incredible magic emanating from where the dragons blasted their elements at the other as well as the palpable quakes their impacts made and searched until his eyes found figures--too short to be Ike. It wasn't quite his ideal, but regrouping was his goal, ultimately.

(finishing soon)


Edited by Sugar-Free

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Thuban --- (#FFA500)


Thuban hissed. They had chanced to look back - and the ruination only got worse. The golden dragon was up again, rising for another strike. A burst of magic flew past Thuban's muzzle. Their lips curled instinctively, and they retreated further. The clash was sending off wild torrents of magic now, scorching the clearing with light and lightning.


It was scorching and scouring much of the clearing the in a manner that reminded Thuban of three or four millennia before, when their flames had helped scour the land of Unova. The magic ran loose, its two masters locked in a violent struggle. Thuban hesitated, searching the ground, before deciding to land. Far from the fight. As the Reshiram did so, they caught sight of wild tendrils of magic strike various figures. Screams cut off - voices going forever silent. Their fur fluffed, before flattening again as several unknown figures collapsed. The scene made them glance around - and then they heard a familar cry. ...was it...?




Polaris --- (#008B8B)


A wind blew, and Polaris looked around. Nearby, N Harmonia and Russell - the Zoroark - were talking to one another. It was quiet - a far cry from the bustle of Team Plasma. Peaceful for once. They shuddered, recalling being fused into the creature the humans called "Black Kyurem." The unnatural fusion of them and of Mira, the icy remnant. 


Something felt... off. Polaris couldn't quite place it - and though they were on solid ground, they fell. A cry of shock issued from their throat as they slammed into the earth. Something golden streaked past... magic? The scents of ozone and grass under crisp sunlight hit Polaris's olfactory receptors. The world swam. Polaris blinked. Something warm barely missed them, and they scrambled back.


The Zekrom looked around. They were in a clearing, though near its edge. Humans, Pokémon, and other creatures were all there. In the center of a maelstrom of energy were two draconic creatures - a grey using blue electricity, and a yellow letting loose with lighht. The grey one seemed to be slowly winning, and the energy was hitting various of those in the clearing. A burst of yellow and blue struck Polaris, who yelped in pain as it left a burn on their plates and skin, and they darted into the cover of the trees. Polaris soon caught sight of a yelliow-and-silver canine creature fleeing. Then -- through the trees... did they see... a Reshiram?

Edited by DuskOfTheStars

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“You’re not seriously considering bringing those papers with us, are you?”
Celica folded her arms across her chest as she glared at Alm. He was seated at a desk in his bedroom straightened the disheveled pile of papers in front of him. He didn’t so much as glance up as Celica had entered much to her annoyance.
“Did you hear what I said?” Celica asked. Alm made a noncommittal grunt as he swiped a quill inkwell and began to quickly scribble on the bottom of a page.  Rolling her eyes, Celica walked up to where Alm was seated and not so gently slammed her hand on the desk. Alm startled, letting out a bewildered yelp before looking up at Celica.


“You’re not going to work at the picnic,” Celica said. Before Alm could protest, she snatched the quill from his hand and placed it back in the black bottle it came from.
“I need to finish these statements by the end of the week,” Alm argued as Celica grabbed his arm and lifted him out of the chair.
“Then you can finish them later,” Celica said. She gently pushed Alm’s back, uttering soft “shoo, shoo!”s as she pushed him towards the door. Alm began to mumble a series of excuses. He tried to pry himself from Celica’s grasp, but it was clear that he wasn’t really trying. Celica wasn’t sure if she could attribute that to him not wanting to hurt her or the bags under his eyes.


"I have a lot more papers to read after those,” Alm said, shooting a desperate look at the desk. Celica barked out an amused “ha!”.
“Come on, Alm,” Celica said. She let go of his arm, turning to face him. “We’ve been planning this for weeks.”
“Well,” Alm began, copying Celica’s posture. “I didn’t expect to get this busy.”
“Mae and Boey are bringing their children.”
“You know I’m not great with kids.”
“Mathilda’s bringing her lance so she and you can spar like you wanted to.”
“I pulled my shoulder the other day.”
“Everyone from Ram village is going to be there.”


Something flickered across Alm’s eyes.
“Everyone?” he asked. Celica nodded. “Is…” Alm’s voice trailed off, his gaze dropping to the ground. His fingers fiddled with one another nervously.
“Yes, silly,” Celica said. She gently flicked Alm’s forehead, marveling at his surprised expression with an affectionate smile. “Kliff, Tobin, Gray, and Faye. All of them.” Alm blinked at Celica, processing what she said for several seconds before grinning back at her. It was hilarious to see just how quickly Alm changed his tune once he realized who would be at the picnic.
“Let me clean up a bit,” Alm said. He walked back to the table and began shuffling through the papers. “This should only take a minute.” Celica hummed softly, waving at Alm as she turned to leave the room.
“Don’t keep me waiting,” Celica called over her shoulder. Alm raised his hand to nonchalantly wave it at Celica. Her smile persisted even as she looked forward and opened the door giving way to the castle hallway—


Except it didn’t. Celica stepped through the door and within a blink of her eyes she was somewhere else. Cold air nipped at her skin, eliciting her to rub her arms in an effort to warm herself. A cacophony of roaring and shrieks powerful enough to seemingly shake the ground brought Celica to her knees. Her hands instinctively shot to her ears. Celica looked around at her surroundings desperate to find Alm somewhere amongst the silhouettes in the distance. The two beings (dragons perhaps?) that were screeching at one another clashed again. Celica covered her head, terrified and bewildered by what was happening before her.




Celica blinked in surprise, glancing up to find a white-haired man quickly approaching her. She opened her mouth to speak, but the man tore the words from her throat by dragging her to her feet and firmly grasping her chin. Celica, too startled to pull away,  let out a small gasp as the man forcibly pulled her face closer to his. His scarlet eyes narrowed as he looked Celica over almost as though he were looking for something. Just as quickly as he had grabbed Celica he let her go. He pushed her away, huffing loudly as he did so. Celica stumbled backward, frantically trying to regain her footing.


“Who do you think—Why did you…?” Celica glared at the man who raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said cryptically, taking a step back.
“What does that mean?” Celica asked. “Did you bring me here?” Celica’s hand gripped the Beloved Zofia’s sheath. “If you laid a finger on Alm’s head, I’ll—”
“I didn’t touch your king, mortal.” Celica lowered her hand as the man sigh dramatically at her. “Humanity’s incompetence never ceases to amaze me.” The man gave Celica an appraising look. “You don’t even remember me, do you?” Celica opened her mouth to speak but found herself at a loss for words. He had a very distinctive look about him, a look that Celica was sure she would have remembered. His navy cloak with purple eyes embroidered on the sleeves was unlike any cloak she had seen before and Celica was certain she would have recalled someone who had a miasma of violet smog swirling around his body.


Celica must have taken too long to answer because the man huffed in annoyance.
“Of course you don’t remember,” he chided. “You humans have such short memories.” He turned his back to Celica, supposedly to leave, but Celica quickly regained her bearings and leaped towards him.
‘Wait!” Celica made a motion to grab the man’s cloak, but he hastily pulled himself away from her. “I’m sorry I can’t remember you. I really am! Please, could you tell me who you are and where I am? I was just with someone and I can’t seem to find him.”
“So you don’t know either,” the man mused more to himself than to Celica. He paused for a moment, rubbing his chin with a finger as though lost in thought. “If you don’t remember our previous encounter then it doesn’t matter. As for where we are, even if I did know I wouldn’t bother explaining it to a worm like you.” The man lowered his hand and gestured vaguely towards the side. “If you insist on bothersome, why don’t you go deal with that filth I landed on when arriving here.” Looking at where the man was pointing to, Celica saw the body of a dark-skinned man with pointed ears and unkempt, white hair.


“Oh, gods!” Celica exclaimed. The rushed towards the man laid flat on the ground and knelt by his side. She pressed two fingers to his neck, breathing a sigh of relief when she felt a pulse. The man was breathing perfectly fine and it didn’t appear as though he had any injuries on his person. Celica wasn’t sure if he had somehow been knocked out by the dragons or if something else happened, but he appeared to be in good health. That said, Celica had been transported to a strange place where two violent creatures were fighting one another. She had no idea if the man was being affected by some sort of spell she had no understanding of or if his injuries were hidden underneath his armor.


“Can you help me with him?” Celica called to the white-haired stranger. The man surprised Celica by throwing his head back and laughing aloud.
“He’s not my problem,” the man said. “Not him, you, or those deranged lizards fighting each other are. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of my way.” Turning his back to Celica, the man began to walk away seemingly unperturbed by the beasts raging nearby. Turning her attention back to the man on the ground, Celica attempt to ease him off the ground and onto her shoulder. Despite how short and skinny the man looked, he was far too heavy for Celica to carry. Celica looked over at the silhouettes in the distance some of which were humanoid in shape and others were… something else. Celica was wary of accidentally bringing someone dangerous to her, but she knew how to protect herself. Besides, she didn’t have many options.


“Hello?” Celica yelled as loud as she could. “Could someone please help me? This man needs assistance!”


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It was nearly evening; the sun had erupted about the sky sending strikes and purplesque shouts of color across the afternoon sky. It'd been hot all day, that was for sure, even being a spirit, he could feel the intense rays of heat berating his phantasmal body even as he sat in the shade of the komainu statue listening to the cicadas wail their loudest--and everyone knew that the sound of the bugs screaming made the evening seem hotter. Komjiro was so excited to go to The Big City with his older brother, Komasan, who had went ahead of him to find a place for them to stay. Gosh, he was excited, he'd never been to The City before; like Komasan, he'd lived in the hills and hollers his whole life.
"Komajiro!" he heard in the distance--and he could see the faint outline of his brother marching up the forest's path.
"What is it, Komasan? Did you find us a place to stay up in that there Big City?" 
"I sure did, brother! And I found something even better!" 
Komasan approached his brother and held out his hand--in it was a clear container with a mostly white liquid mess, yet when Komajiro took it from his hand, it felt cold as if it'd been once frozen at one point."
"I tried my best, Komajiro. I came as fast as I could."

“What is this, brother?”
“It’s a budget vittle called ice cream, Komajiro. But it has to be cold or else it’ll melt faster’n a snowflake in a desert.”
“Bless your swirls, brother.” he put his paws over the clear casing and popped it open before putting it to his mouth and began to drink the strange sugary cream. “Komasan! This is sweeter than a apple pie! I love this! Thank you for getting me it from the Big City.”
“It’s a life of luxury you’ll be getting used to, Komajiro. As soon as tomorrow we’ll have as much ice cream as we can eat! I done found me a fancy job up at one of them there skyscraper buildings.”
“That’s so cool, big brother. I hope I find a job as cool as yours.” Komajiro pressed the cup to his mouth again and finished off the melted disaster of ice cream. “Can we go get another ice cream?”
“In a few days, Komajiro. I’m broker’n a mule’s back until I get paid.” Komasan took the messy cup from his brother and put it in the scarf wrapped about his shoulders. “You ready to go see our new home?”
“I sure am.” he responded excitedly.
And, together, the two brothers began their trek to the city limits.

They had certainly been walking for awhile now--and it was of most certainty that it was nighttime. The once vibrantly hued evening gave way to the blackest of nights, illmuinated only by the moon above and--
“Komasan, what is that?” Komajiro yelled, stepping off the path momentarily.
Komasan’s attention turned over to the golden sliver that was sliced out of the air, giving off it’s ethereal glow as if it had been there this whole time. “I’m not sure, Komajiro.”
Komajiro meandered close to it. “It’s shinier than grandpappy’s grapefruit spoon!”
“Komajiro! Be carefu--” he approached his little brother just in time to grab the sash on his back as they were both yanked into the gash as if some screaming wind had decided to seize them with errant fingers.
And then they were
                                                                   g …

“OOF” Komajiro let out, landing atop his brother on the cold ground--this didn’t look anything like The Big City at all--it looked like more country to him. “Komasan, where are we?”
“Well, we ain’t in Kansas no more, little brother.”
“What is it Koma--” Komasan’s words halted at the visual of--not one, but two gargantuan reptiles causing the biggest ruckus in all his whole life.
“Komasan. Those have got to be the biggest alligators I ever did see! Does The Big City have bigger alligators than we do?”
“Komajiro, I don’t think that those are alligators!”
A wry snake of lightning screeched through the air towards the bewildered Yo-kai, but just as it reached him, his brother stepped in front of him and deflected it with magic of the same caliber.
“Komajiro! You gotta be careful doing that! Someone could get hurt!”
“Komasan, you don’t understand! That could’ve been you. We needa hightail it outta here quick!”

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