Search for the Sword of the Mist 5-15

Author's Note
Before we begin, I must apologize for keeping you waiting for two months. But I've come to a decision among my delay.
Due to the fact my membership expired, I'm afraid I'm limited to very little room left in my portfolio. So from here on out, all chapters will be added in a multitude of volumes, ranging from five to even fifteen chapters, which is quite a lot of text, if you must ask.

Also, due to a problem with my Microsoft Word, I'm posting up the unfinished version right now, since I don't want it crashing on me, which would force me to rewrite all this. -_-

But otherwise, I hope you find it as no problem whatsoever, and if you do, I apologize.

Now, with out further ado...let's begin with Chapter 5!

P.S. Don't be confused about the upcoming description. It's only used to demonstrate the scenery of a different area in the world of Pokemon. [With a twist, of course...]


CONTINUED FROM CHAPTER 4....

A chilling wind could be felt scarcely among the stone wall. With a vengeance, the wind's breath howled in disarray towards the heavens, begging for forgiveness among its own.

And yet the wall reamined in a dull and frozen stance, partly from its pride...


But mostly because of the fact that it had been constructed with thick marble over twenty decades in the past.

It revealed itself from distances across the land, dwarfing the city's homes below.

It was shaped in an unusual shape, beginning with the front. It began perfectly straight like a square, but towards the middle it started to slant donwards, increasing such an entrance's drawbridge. The drawbridge, indeed, was shaped into a triangle. But near the end of the same bridge, it slanted back into its original striaght pattern, thus involving a risky offense. It continued towards the east side, which spiraled into a guard tower, which stood in the shadows of the night like a statue.

Going up the east side looked awkwardly like the wing of a Ho-Oh, due to its crazy pattern of insanity. Yet this was the best defensive position of the castle, since most enemies would attack from the east.

The scheme of the castle continued along the north and west sides, all cornered with another guard tower and two guards observing the view from each side.

Atop the gigantic middle frame of the castle's wall was a figure, observing his surroundings.

A closer look would have answered the outline of sword lying at his side, gleaming in an innocence of an ashen hue, but glaring into the foulness of the night with an ever-growing hatred of scarlet.

The boy's hair rustled in tune with the wind, a mixture of a dark brown and a shadowy black.

His eyes glanced towards the city below, observing the retirement of the inhabitants as they retreated to their homes.

His lime-colored eyes twinkled at the sight of an old man struggling to get inside his home, due to his door being jammed shut.


"C'mon, old man. C'mon..."

He gripped the edge of the stone wall tightly, expecting every move of the old man, who could be heard ranting of the easiness of doors in his youth.

The boy couldn't resist chuckling at his antics, despite the awareness that the night was approaching faster than normal, as if expecting the old man's door to remain shut.


A sudden blow erupted from the guard at the boy's right, causing him to jump.

"Darrell, what the-"

"No time, kiddo. You need to get inside," replied a man in his late thirties.

"But there's-"

"I'm sure the old man can get inside in time. But we're worried about you at the moment. If you stay out here a moment longer, we're worried that-" he glanced around before continuing, "-that the Baletes can get you."


The boy's eyes lighted with a flash of fear. "They're coming TONIGHT?"

The man nodded, quickly grabbing the boy's arm and roughly throwing him inside the tower's door.

The boy hit the ground with a thud, quickly glaring at the man called Darrell.

"Thanks for the last-minute warning. You could of told me sooner that they were coming tonight..."

Darrell locked the door behind him, then tossed the boy's sword onto the ground. "Hey, don't blame me. I'm not the one who's supposed to be called to do this job tonight."

"You're straying from the subject. I could have perfectly handled myself even if there were Baletes outside," the boy muttered dejectedly.

Darrell's eyes brightened in shock. "You ACTUALLY believe they exist now?"

"Hello? Keyword. IF! You know I don't believe they exist..."

Darrell chuckled. "That's not what I heard you say twenty seconds ago," he said with a grin, revealing a smile that was missing a tooth.

"By Arceus, you have to be such an ass..." the boy growled.

Noticing the anger rousing in the boy's eyes, Darrell was smart to change the subject. "So, how was the lookout tonight? No sign of any trouble?"

To his relief, the boy had calmed down, picking himself up and dusting off the tattered top of his tunic. "Well, I did see a flock of Spearow pass by, but we all know that they aren't part of the tribe..."

"So...we're off the hook, tonight?"

"Yes, Darrell. We are," the boy replied, fixing his sword's sheath into the belt buckle of his jeans.

"Good. Why don't we go to the Mess Hall? I think they're serving salad with that white dressing or whatever-"

"It's called "ranch", Darrell. Could you get with the today times, please?"

"Yeah, sure. Ranch. Whatever. I don't know what is it, but by golly, it taste wonderful!"

*No wonder you were abandonded as a baby...* the boy thought with an annoyed sideways glance.

-----------------------------------------------------

Following the guard tower's door on their right, they decended down a spiral staircase.

"So," the boy said. "How was your shift?"

"Me? Hm...same old. Same old, I think."

"Really? No problems at all?"

"Well, we haven't had any of those for quite a while, have we?"

"True...it makes me wonder what the Wilds are up to at a time like this..."

"Perhaps they're on vacation?" Darrell suggested.

"Vacation...?"

A moment of silence passed as the the boy gave Darrell a look like he was the stupidest person in the world.

Upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, the door was suddenly blown open by a earth-shaking explosion.

The duo suddenly gripped onto the rail for support, glancing at the walls.

"What's going on?" cried the boy. "Are we under attack?"

Darrell gave a look of uncertainty, peering from behind of the once wooden door.

"Um...quick question..."

"What?" the boy asked, tension growing like the phases of the moon.

"What would you do to me if I told you that we weren't?"

The boy's eye narrowed into evil slits.

"It was Adrian and Matthew practicing again, wasn't it?" he mustered without raising his voice.

With a gulp, Darrell nodded. "Yep..."

The boy sat down onto the steps, fists clenched and hovering near his forehead.

Darrell was biting his nail in fear, but finally managed to squeal a quiet: "K-kid...?"

"Go to the Mess Hall. I'll catch up with you there," the boy ordered with his face still covered in his fists.

Darrell took no second bidding. Sweat rolling down his forehead, he dashed towards the door across the hall, nearly scorching himself from the small flames on the broken door.

A moment's silence regained in the tense heat.


A moment later, the tension was broken free.


"MATT, YOU NO-GOOD MOTHER----!!"



SKKKKAAAAAAAAAAAAA-BOOOOMMMM!

Another bone-rattling explosion rumbled much closer to the door, and the boy was forced the run out into the hallway.

Instantly turning left, he sprinted down a religious hallway singed in black smoke.

At the end was another boy, who turned around in time to only get drilled by a sholder-first tackle.


Both of the boys were tossed around and around in an tightening roll, blowing the other with fists every step of the way.


Author's Note
Ok, before I delete this, I just want you all to know that this is Search for the Sword of the Mist. This is just taken in another part of the world, where the humans live in peace. In the other chapters, it was obviously the intelligent Pokemon. But now we're here, so don't give me any crap about this not being the same story. This boy will become a main character throughout the next two chapters, and then we'll turn our attention BACK to Buizel and Riolu.

Got it? Good. Just don't give me any reviews until I'm finished with the next two chapters. This message will be deleted as soon as these next five chapters end.


-------------------------------

*Back to Ch.5*

Blows were being exchanged left and right, when the boy gave a punch that sent them skidding across the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Both got up and glared at each other, both generating hatred more than the human mind could take.

They both finally scrambled to their feet, desperate to get some sort of final blow.

But the attempt was cut short.

In the middle of the predicament, hands outstrectched to halt the fighting was a Grovyle, whose eyes were closed calmly.

"Gro," it said simply.

Silence carried along with the dust that floated by them.

The first boy smirked as he spoke. "Looks like Adrian has more patience than you will ever have, Matt."

Matt ginned as he wiped the smear of blood from the cut he had suffered on his mouth. "Y'know, Jason, in some ways I've kinda respected you."

"Oh, lay off!" Jason muttered. "You may have the muscle to do all the hard work around here, but you still lack the brains to calculate the consequences that you start."

Matthew grinned, backing up while raising his hands in mock apology. "I think I see what's going on here. You're still getting used to become Watchman for the night, eh? What's the matter? The Baletes almost get 'cha?"

"The Baletes don't exist," Jason growled. "It's nothing but a scary story to frighten children into not running out at night."

"Ah, but why was something like that created in the first place?" Matthew suggested. "Surely SOMEBODY must have discovered something...disturbing."

"Psh. I can see why you weren't promoted up to Officer along side me," Jason scoffed. "Your hair-brained schemes are going to be the death of you one day, Matt."

The Grovyle named Adrian shook its head in embarrasment, probably believing the words. "Gro..."

"Y'know what?" Matthew said without breaking the grin. "I believe one day you're going to regret not believing me."

"Heh. I'll bet Jolieo's soul that that never happens," Jason replied with an edge, slowly walking backwards towards another flight of staircases.

Upon taking his first step did he hear Matthew call him: "Hey."

Turning around, he first noticed that Matthew's grin was gone. "You know I don't mean anything bad against you, right? I just want my hands on that tribe!"

Jason sighed. "I know you do, Matt," he replied softly. "But all of the destruction and revenge isn't necessary. Not within these walls."

Turning back around, he murmured something that couldn't be deciphered by any human ears: "And, truth be told...in some ways I've guessed I've respected you..."

--------------------------

Descending down many staircases had quite given him an appetite, and he continued marching forward towards the Great Hall, where a banquet was usually held for the many troops inside the castle walls.

The smell of roasted lobster drenched with a seasoning of spices and layered with melted butter filled the air, combining with a side of warm, sizzling apple cider.

Despite the seriousness Jason had, he didn't have enough to prevent his mouth from drooling. But he quickly recovered and fastened the sword he held sheathed under his belt, and slowly walked his way through the doorway.

Only to be halted by two other guards, blocking the entrance with their spears.

"Uh...what gives? I'm hungry too, you know..."

"Are you Jason?" one of the guards asked with no emotion whatsoever.

Jason wore a face of bewilderment, somewhat taken aback by the sudden question. "Uh...what?"

"Are you Officer Jason, Watchmen of the Fourth Division?" the other guard repeated without hiding his annoyance.

"Y-yes. Do I know you?" he asked, and instantly wished he hadn't asked.

Simply bickering on front of the guards' uniforms held the symbol of a Ho-oh. And that could only mean one thing.

*The King's Royal Bodyguards...shoot.* Jason thought as he bit his lip in embarrasment.

Amazingly, the guards ignored the question and continued staring down at him, due to his young age and size. "We are here to inform you that the King is in need of your services in his private quarters."

Jason, for one, was simply amazed at the request. The King needed HIM? In his private quarters? For HIS services?

...Something didn't seem right with that picture...

Why would the King need HIM? He was nothing but one of many Watchman who watched over the castle for danger, let alone an Officer.

"W-what for?" Jason barely let out.

"He wouldn't say..." the guard on the right replied, almost in bewilderment himself.

Jason nodded, still overcome with shock. "I'll go when I finish my supper, then."

"That won't be neccessary. He needs to see you. NOW."

Jason glanced at the many knights chowing down on the appetizer in the hall, his stomach growling in protest. "...Now...?"

"Now."

Stifling a groan and rubbing his rumbling stomach, he headed back towards the flight of stairs.

----------------------------

The locals of the kingdom said that luck was based off an old and eerie prophecy, which was foretold of an event that could've brought luck to their society and to everything in the world.

The prophecy told that in ancient time, before any human were created by the Lord's blessing, when only Pokemon roamed the land free, the legends of all types provided a fountain of curing. The fountain was given a sliver of each of their power, to ensure stability within itself.

The real mystery to the folklore, though, was how the fountain worked. Back then, when a Pokemon suffered a physical problem, it would disrupt them for the time being, for there was no way to treat it. Either they avoided the inflictions entirely, or by some miracle, eat a berry that would treat their condition.

That is, considering that most of them were colorblind.

But if one were to be doused in the fountain of curing, their annoying ailments would abruptly disappear. Poison, paralysis, burns and many other illnesses were washed away by the gentle splashes of heaven.

To even more amazement, personal illness would evaporate as well. Psyduck's headaches would vanish without a trace.

An Chansey's egg would hatch at a sooner rate.

A broken tooth on a Raticate would regenerate in a day, and so on.

The ironic thing was that none of them knew they were in such a wonderland, since most of them would have instant amnesia once leaving the fountain's shores.

But as time progressed unnatural events began unfolding in the vicinity of the fountain.

It started small, starting with no curing to an ailment.

But as time began to continue, more serious events started revolving near the fountain.

Fearing an overwhelming presence within the voids of the dimension, the legends of time and space erased the fountain from existence, narrowly escaping the presence's escape.

Their timing proved well for the world, not only saving it, but shattering a few tiny slivers of the fountain around the world.

And it was said that a few thousand years later, a professor discovered a part of the lost fountain during an archeology trip. With a few carefully placed extraction, he was able to make a clone of it's DNA into a liquid, with later became known as an Antidote, a curing of poison.

Many other pieces were found in later years, and were used on wounds for both humans and Pokemon.

Many people believed luck was created when the professor discovered the piece, and was entrusted with everybody ever since.


Was it luck that brought Jason to have the King order his assistance?

Probably not.

But he was still nervous nonetheless.

Slowly and anxiously, he ascended the staircase. A drop of sweat pierced down his forehead, but he quickly wiped it away to prevent himself from looking nervous.

...Actually, scratch that.

He was BEYOND nervous at this point.


*I probably could've been eating some supper right about now...* he thought. He suddenly face-palmed himself, remembering what was headed for him.

"Who cares about supper at this point? How many officers are invited to meet the freakin' KING?!" he shouted at the air.

Only silence gave him the answer. He sighed, slightly embarrassed at himself for talking to himself.

-------------------------

The route to the King's room proved to be quite a workout.

The King's room lay in the dead center of the castle, to Jason's relief. But to his dismay, it was still a long climb.

"Hopefully I'm not too winded when I reach his room...," Jason whispered, sending a quick prayer. "Arceus help me that I don't screw this up...."

To his surprise, the instant he said those words, the King's room came into clear view. On both side were two of his elite guards, standing emotionless in the night.

Jason couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the royal bodyguards. Most elite forces were covered in a clothing with a sheer intensity of a grayish-blue.

The bodyguards wore a gold-plated platebody, with crimson-colored platelegs. On their helmets wore the symbol of a Ho-Oh, the symbol on everyone's uniform, but the face-mask atop the helmet was the craziest eye-opener ever.


The face-masks were shaped like the letter Y.

Most knights believed that the guards wore them like that to intimidate their enemies.

To Jason, all it did was make them look like clowns.

Stifling what was remaining of his chuckle, he walked toward the guards with a casual look on his face.

Almost immediately, the bodygaurds lowered their dangerously pointed pikes in front of the door.

"Reveal yourself, boy!"

Jason raised his arms in mock apology. "Geez, only asking where the armory is," Jason questioned.

"Twenty-fourth floor, take a right as soon as you pass the torture chambers-"

"I'm playin' a joke, moron," Jason chuckled. "I believe the King sent me for something? I'd like to get to supper as soon as possible so I can eat, thank you."

The guard on the left barely kept a snort of disbelief from exiting his nostrils. "The King sending for an Officer?" he said with a laugh. "HA! I haven't heard that one in ten years, kid, and I'm glad you brought that up. Now why don't you run along and play with your toys?"

Jason gave a glare, and instantly went into "grumpy mode".

"I believe he sent for Officer Jason of the Fourth Division? Surely you fools are clued in everything he announces."

The guard on the left stop laughing and slowly tensed into his commanding pose. "There has. Do you have any idea what keeping him? The King is not a patient sort," he said with authority.

Jason spread his arms open in a bragging fashion. "You're lookin' at him," he mused with confidence. "I got it on my badge too. Wanna see?"

He casually flipped the guard on the right his badge from his uniform. "Give it back when you're done, ok? I don't give souvenirs to idiots I don't even know."

The guard carefully read the badge, and with a growl, replied, "It's real, alright."

He turned to the other guard. "Open the doors, and be sure to get 'em closed once he's inside."

He handed the badge back to Jason, glaring impatiently through his face-mask. "We'll be keeping an eye on you once you leave, so don't try anything funny."

"Hey, I'm not the kind who tells jokes," Jason countered. "See you on the other side."

The other guard failed to keep his snort from being contained the next time. "Officer Jason...ha! Aren't you a bit young?"

Jason stopped and turned his head towards the guards attire. "Aren't you a bit old to be wearing those pajamas everyday in public?"


A stunning silence warmed the air, leaving Jason with a smirk.

"Didn't think so."

Helping himself, he slammed the doors behind him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason's confidence was starting to appear as he entered the long hall that lead to the King's private chambers.

The room wasn't exactly slathered in gold, to many people's beliefs of a king's living quarters.

It was more on the side of a soft burgundy, covered with a gentle red, making the room look comfortable to take a nap in.

The curtains that hung over the windows were also a red color, marked with a trimmed green.

It was on Officer's dream to at least sleep in such a comfortable room.


And in the middle of the room, overlooking his kingdom, dressed in a velvet robe, was the King.

The leader of all the kingdom.

The protector of everyone's homes.

The most respected man in the country.


But tonight....to Jason's shock...he looked...tired.

His long hair was beginning to turn gray, marking his elderly reign.

His face was covered with wrinkles, almost as noticeable as his beard, now sagging beneath his chin.

It took Jason's a full minute to realize that this was still the king.

"Uh..s-sir?"


The king suddenly jumped around suddenly, noticing one of his soldiers.

"Who are you?" he blurted out in shock. "What are you doing here?"

Jason raised his hands in apology. "I'm sorry for surprising you, Your Highness. But I believe you wanted to see me?"

The king's reaction slowly changed into a much more confused and subtle look. "See...someone?"

*Memory must be fading out...* Jason thought with sympathy. *Must be tough for an old man to bear witness to such a war we're in...*

"Er...I'm J- I mean, Officer Jason of the Fourth Division...?"

The king suddenly lit up like Illumise and Volbeats at a meteor shower. "I DID call for somebody, didn't I?"

He turned to Jason, overlooking him. "W-where is he?"

Jason did his best not to tilt his eyebrows into a grumpy straight uni-brow.

Luckily, the king responded in astonishment.

"Good gracious me! I didn't think the one I was calling for was so...so...young."

"I get that a lot, sir."

The king sighed and walked over to a table laying right next to his bed. He opened a lid out of a jar, and motioned it to Jason. "Honeycomb candy?"

"Um...no thanks."

"Are you sure? We get them from the greatest Combees in the country, my boy."

"No thank you, sir. But thanks for asking," Jason said. *Considering we don't exactly "get" them anyways...*

The king put the candy away, clearing his throat. "Now, I suppose you're wonder why you're here."

Jason nodded, putting his hands behind his back in respect. "Yes, sir."

"As you may know, our kingdom is in the middle of a crisis. The wilds are attacking us for an amazing answer of unknown reasons. We've fought back numerous times of invasion, but we know that it won't be long until the launch an all-out assault on our castle," the king said.

"Then we'll just try to defend it like we've always have," Jason replied with a hint of courage.

The king turned back to him, eyes narrowed in a shocking sight that made Jason nearly jump.

"There will be no more "try," boy."

The words struck Jason hard like a Donphan had rolled into the back of his neck.

"T-there won't be..."

"No," the King corrected. "There WILL NOT be any more use of the word, "try"."

Jason blinked in spite of such a shock. If the King was this serious about a simple word, then by golly, something big was up.

The King, fortunately, had noticed his shock, and loosened his grip of fear from around Jason's throat. "Come. Meet me by the window."

Ever so slowly, Jason inched his way toward the bedroom's window. In any other circumstances, he would have quoted how glorious it looked. But due to the recent statement, he was too dissolved in fear to talk.

The King noticed this as well, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You look like you've seen a Spiritomb. Do you want to sit down?"

"N-no, sir. I-I'm f-f-fine," Jason stuttered, struggling to pull himself together.

"Honestly, lad," the King replied with an astounding blink. "If you think that the mission I'm about to offer you if scaring you half to death already, I could always-"

"No, sir. I'm really OK," Jason responded. "It's just...well, scary to think about what you meant..."

The King's eyes marked a flash of sadness. "You have no idea, my dear boy. But it's best we put that behind us and prepare for something, don't you think?"

Jason breathed a sigh of relief, nodding. "I agree, sir."

"Good. Because I know I am in dire need if I am asking an Officer to accept this mission."

The King suddenly turned to Jason. "No offense, of course."

"None taken, my lord."

"Tell me, dear boy. Have you been into town before?"

"Um...only once, sir. Shortly after I recruited, I believe. It was at the time of the Autumn Festival. All the townspeople were setting up the plaza."

The King nodded, a small smile on his weary face. "It is a beauty to see how happy they were that day. A time before war. A time of offering and peace. A time of progression...."

Jason couldn't resist smiling along with the King. "Those were the good old days, weren't they, sir?"

In a second, the King changed into a sadder kind of ruler. His eyes grew deep and saddened. "Until that fateful day..."

Jason flinched, wanting to slap himself for mentioning the words: "Those were the good old days". *You freakin' idiot! Now you've made him upset!*

Jason turned to the King. "Er..maybe that's something we shouldn't talk about...?"

"But it is, unfortunately, dear boy. It is something that I cannot live down to this very day..."

He stared out to the many homes that lay hundreds of feet below them. Gathered up in a circle, from their view it would appear the town was the shape of a Marril's tail.

"Do you see how precious everyone is down there? Do you not see how often such a territory exists?"

Jason did his best not to groan. *Man...if there's one thing I don't like about him...it's the fact that once he rambles, there's not point in stopping him...*

The King sighed, a fresh batch of wrinkles already overcoming his weary face. "Oh, how I sometimes wish I were a part of them...."

He abruptly sat down in a chair, its red velvet cushions easing his troubled mind. "I wouldn't have to worry about decisions. Wouldn't have to worry about death unless it came from a family member."

He looked up, regarding Jason. "As you know, I have not married. Nor will I be able to pass on the bloodline of my hereditary."


Jason nodded.

"The torch must be handed down. But there will be no one to grab its handle. That is why I wish to have the life of a villager. They go on a normal routine. They do not have to worry about being a ruler."

His eyes were glazed by an uncertain worry, and Jason regarded that carefully.

"Um...not to be rude or anything sir....but you wished to discuss something with me?" Jason said, hoping his tone of voice didn't sound too impatient.

The King suddenly shook his mind, as if breaking from a trance. " Oh, yes....right. I had almost forgotten why I sent for you....Please forgive me. I apologize you had to listen to an old man's tale of desperation..."

He sat up from his chair, and, for the first time, looked at Jason with a stare so fierce, it almost looked like his pupils had become flames. "Tell me, Jason. How do you view yourself?"

Jason blinked. "I'm....afraid I don't understand."

"Your personality. What do you think makes you different from everyone else?"

"I....um...." Jason blinked.

"Well, personally, sir, I hadn't really....thought about that. I figured-"

"If it's something you figured, then you must have some sort of answer." The King interrupted.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then what's stopping you?"

"N-nothing, sir!"

"Then, by all means, talk!"



[STILL UNDER DEVELOPMENT....]