Digimon - Relics

[cleansinglight]

My name is CleansingLight, alternatively known as Titen-Sxull on various sites. Four years ago I was a member of the first Digital Evolution forum and I wrote a novel sized fan fiction called Digimon Gear. It’s probably still on the old message board actually. Anyway I finished the story in 2006 and left the forum behind. I was 18 at the time and thought myself far too old for Digimon so I eventually stopped going on. BUT I never truly left Digimon behind, I still checked in now and then and watched the show for the sake of nostalgia, but also because I’m an addict and I don’t think I’ll ever fully break my love of Digimon completely. Hence why I am back… to write a new Digimon fan-fic that’ll blow the old one out of the water. But before I post the first chapter I wanted to give a basis from which you can read this because my version of the Digital World is sort of a combination of my own mind and all 5 seasons of the show.

My Digital World was created by a supreme Digimon I made up called Erebus on (I make up a lot of Digimon, using other languages, mythology, gods and goddesses from every pantheon imaginable, etc). Erebusmon left the 3 Angelic Digimon Seraphimon, Ophanimon and Cherubimon in charge. Our story opens 120 years after the gate between the Digital World and the Earth has been sealed shut. 120 years after the events of Digimon Gear. Many Digimon have forgotten what humans are and have forgotten how to evolve. The Digital World has enjoyed peace for most of that 120 years but now parts of the Digi-World are in chaos and there is a need for Digi-Destined again… hence the story…

Digimon Relics

Chapter One: The Forgotten Gate

Solara turned her radiant hazel eyes towards the window. The rain drops were chasing each other towards the ground on their gravity driven journey. Despite their speed they hit the ground producing only a gentle patter, which calmed Solara’s racing soul. Her eyes turned from fiery fervor to overwhelming calm. She reached her graceful hand out the window to greet the rain, a few drops caressed her skin, exciting her nerves and causing her to get goosebumps. She retracted her hand just before the cold rain could make her exposed flesh numb. She slid the window shut and returned to the broken world she inhabited.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the last of the cool fall air that lingered in front of the window. Her soul was weary and tired, she felt as though a weight had been on her shoulders from birth, a burden she carried within, which now, at seventeen years old, she searched for a way to relinquish. She had run from her past to a present where the sun shone like a gray bulb dangling like something out of a film noir, but it was brighter than the shadow she’d crawled from. But, she reconciled, we all have scars, we’re all just wounded souls which have been stitched shut so that the bleeding can stop. The ideas brought a few tears to her eyes, they shot down her cheeks like bullets and fell to the sheets of her worn gray bed. A bed, if you could consider it such, more of a cot really, but what could an orphanage provide other than slightly better than poverty conditions.

She stood, her one piece gray rag of an outfit shook with the shivers she felt as cold raced up her bare feet. But something else in the air caused Solara to shudder and tremble like a leaf, a beautiful leaf as it is shaken free from its branch and begins its descent into the unknown. An energy sparked around in the air, Solara could feel it, almost taste the change. She looked around at the sparse and worn countenances of the other girls, but none seemed to grasp that anything was off. Was she the only one who could feel it? Her senses couldn’t have been lying, they hadn’t lied to her yet.

Something was indeed amiss, but Solara was not the only one who felt it reverberating in the air. Across the city Thompson Amos stood in the rain and looked at the sky. As though invoking spiritual help he stared into the sky wondering what had changed. At the beginning he thought it was indigestion, but whatever it was he had to go, far away from his dysfunctional family. His step-father had been poison to the home he‘d once called utopia, now he called the library home. Now he stood outside the library in the rain, letting the drops speak to him, and tell him their angst. What was it? He felt it tug at his heart, pulling on him, he could feel it permeating, flowing in the air, digging into his skin to afflict every pore with a strange sensation. He felt it leading him, and he began to follow.

Across the city the rain was just beginning to fall, this time it was heavy, in droves, and it woke the sleeping girl. Vera’s eyes strained open, revealing their dazzling shade of sage. She too felt it.
“John,” she said shaking her sleeping boyfriend awake, “what is that?”

“It’s just the rain, go to sleep.”

“No, not the rain, the message it carries.”

“What?” John asked, his concern for her made him sit straight up.

Vera stood and approached the window and put her hand to the frozen pane.

“What are you trying to say?” she said aloud.

Elsewhere two more had sensed something strange about the rain which dampened their city. One sat in a classroom, listening to a private instructor. This was Alexander Fearson, as he stood on the baseball field. He was the talk of the town, star athlete and all around popular guy. But something had distracted Xander, and it wasn’t the usual petty distraction, it was something he could feel deep within him. He’d hardly ever felt his soul so affected by anything, especially such an enigma as now faced him. He stood straight up, his eyes on the rain.

The other, Anselm Uriel was currently standing, looking straight at the produce in the super-market. He hadn’t eaten in over a day, and his sticky fingers were suddenly growing a taste for apples, but something drew him away from his five finger discount. Something within him told him that soon it would all be okay, if he just followed his heart.

Solara decided to brave the cold, she walked from the haven she’d called home for seventeen years and into the cool autumn air. No shoes, no home, just a feeling and a hope which refused to be killed. She walked forward towards the feeling, the rain splashed against her skin. But it did not hurt or sting, instead she smiled. She needed feeling, she’d felt so numb in her prison, and now freedom had come with the rain, and she would let the flood wash her away.

Meanwhile Thompson was getting close, he could feel it, the air wasn’t just excited, it was shocking him along his path. Down three alley ways, and into the slums, there he found a door built into the ground, more of a vent really. The energy stopped poking him and hummed about inaudibly, he reached down and grasped the metallic handle, wet with rain, and threw the cellar door open. A gentle rush of air, air feeling eons old, drifted out and into his nostrils, and he knew, this was no false hope.

Thompson’s expression was one of amazement and anticipation as he energetically leapt into the hole and continued his journey. The ground was moist, and the air was dank and stale, but Thompson’s fiery hope refused to be doused by the environment, as the electrified air continued leading him. Solara too felt led by something in the air. As she ambled towards her destination, the rain continually beating down on her, she thought back on her rough life and scarred past, and realized that all her hope now dwelt in the future, and on this feeling she had deep in her soul. Indeed they were all being drawn to the same place by the same unseen celestial hand.

Thompson’s eyes grew wide in the dark to aid his sight, in the distance he could detect the faintest glimmer of light at the end of tunnel, this bolstered his hope greatly. His feet grew heavier with each step, and the energy in the air grew stronger and more insistent. He knew he was coming drawing near as the buzzing air suddenly silenced. There he found a massive door. It must have towered over him thirty feet up into the air.

He pressed his hands to it to assess whether it could be open. It felt heavy, dangerously heavy, and seemed to be carved of some type of stone or marble, but none he’d ever encountered before. Even stranger were the odd carvings his hands encountered while feeling about in the blackness. Through the crack in the door a miniscule ray of light managed to pass through, this sparked Thompson’s insatiable curiosity. He knew that on the other side there was some type of light source, and therefore there was probably some type of intelligent life or at least a mystery worth delving into. Thompson began to push at the door with all his might, endeavoring to finish the journey, but the door didn’t so much as budge. He slid to the ground, his back to the door, in a despondent slump, managing to kick up a fit of dust as he contacted the Earth.
It was at this point that his ears began to pick up a peculiar sound. At first it was only very faint, hardly audible, and all but indefinable. He strained his ears as the sound grew louder; footsteps. Someone was coming. He couldn’t tell at first how far they were, or how many, but he knew it was multiple persons, and he knew they had entered the tunnel. Thompson stood, at first a bit scared that he was in trouble, but Solara’s friendly voice greeted his ears, and vanquished his fear.

“Hello, anybody down here?”

Thompson strained his eyes, in the distance he swore he could outline several human forms, one of which, he immediately recognized, was the source of the voice he’d heard.

“I am,” he answered, once he was satisfied those who approached were friendly enough, “My name’s Thompson, I was led here, by this strange…”

“Sensation” the same voice filled in his remaining word.

“Yes, you too?”

“And all of those who are with me, I assume. My name is Solara Phoenix.”

Finally they arrived, staring at each other in the dark, not able to greet each other, shake hands, or even make eye contact.

“The door,” Thompson spoke softly, “the door is shut. I couldn‘t open it.”

“Then let us try, together.” Xander suggested, stepping forward

They all put their hands to the door in unison and pushed.

“It’s too heavy!!” Vera yelled, coughing from the dust in the air.

“No, no, it’s opening!” Anselm announced, as the door did indeed open, but not by the might of their hands, but by the might of a hand unseen. A rush of air pushed them into the room, and the door was slammed shut behind them. All was silent for a while, then they rose to their feet, and began to look around in the dark. Thompson’s eyes searched for the light he’d detected earlier, there in the center of the room was one solitary, oil-lit candle, illuminating the tiniest waft of air about itself. Thompson was mystified, not by the light itself, but by all the mysteries and possibilities this tiny light projected. For surely this light had to have been lit by human hands, by hands at least, and recently.

“What is that god-awful smell?” Xander asked holding his nose.

“That, my new friend, is the stench of illumination,” Thompson said throwing a pebble which knocked the candle over, spilling it’s flammable contents along a sort of trough carved in the stone, and where the oil went the flame and it’s inherent light followed. The carved trench seemed to spiral endlessly, and Thompson feared there would not be enough oil to fill the entire thing, but miraculously enough the whole structure was full in a matter of minutes, and now the whole room was lit by light. They met each others faces for the first time. Immediately Thompson pinpointed Solara from the rest, but he was surprised to see her dressed in rags. Still he thought she was beautiful. He walked over to her and shook her hand with a bright smile.

“Thompson no doubt?” She said, returning a brief smile.

After greetings they decided to get down to business, and examined the room with their eyes intently. The room was circular in shape and had a sort of roof, over all but it’s center, that was held up by columns which bore strange carvings like those they’d felt on the opposite side of the door. Stranger still was that the center of the room continued up for hundreds of feet in a cylinder, it seemed to stretch to the surface and beyond, up through into the air, and yet it could not be seen on ground level.

They gathered round and marveled at it, for a moment filled with a child like wonder they all had, for one reason or another, abandoned in their teen years. The stone along it’s sides seemed even more ancient than the strange rock the cavern was carved out of. Thompson’s curiosity was still unshakable as he peered up into the unknown, his eyes fixed on that untouchable patch of sky which sat just above the vertical tunnel.

“If only there was someway to scale up the wall,” Thompson said, the others still running their eyes over the mysteries of the room.

“There has to be a way up, how could they have built it without a way to get up there. If only there were stairs, or a ladder.”

Thompson sat for a while and rubbed his chin like some sort of philosopher. Something caught his attention, engraved on the spiraling candelabra were some strange, dust entrenched, hieroglyphs. Thompson bent down and gently blew the dust from them, he ran his fingers over them as he examined them visually for any hints to their meaning. They seemed to be some sort of directions, telling him something, he hoped they could explain a method of ascent. He sat for about five minutes, wracking his mind to decipher the strange symbols. Solara observed him for a moment before approaching to see if she could assist him. Thompson shied away from her help at first, but her smile melted away his anxious nature and they tried to find the answer together.

Solara agreed that the carvings were an ancient guide, but she too had trouble guessing at their meaning, she sat to rest upon a ledge, and the solution presented itself as the ground began to quake. The Earth trembled beneath them and small stones were rattled from the ceiling, everyone looked at Solara for answers but her eyes held the same confusion and fright as their own. Thompson’s face contained two emotions, one was worry and the other was wonder, as the miraculous happened. The spiral-candelabra, filled with fire, began to rise up towards the surface, unraveling spiral by spiral into a magnificent stone staircase, which stretched up the tube to the surface.

All was still as the stone chamber and the anxious heart’s settled into peace, as the smoke cleared they gathered around marveling at the spiral staircase that had assembled itself before their eyes. The flame which had once danced in the candelabra now lit the way as a fiery banister along the side of the stairs. Thompson looked to Solara, but her smile was gone, and the fire in her eyes was no longer encouraging him to bravery, she simply looked back at him, bewildered and unsure.
“
Well?” Xander asked, impatiently, “I say we go up there and take a look, who’s with me?”

“I’m with you,” John answered quickly.
“Anybody else??”

“I’m up for it.” Anselm said raising his hand.

Solara and Thompson exchanged a look.

“I’ll go,” Thompson answered loudly.

“Count me in too.” Solara responded next.

“You guys aren’t going anywhere without me,” Vera piped.

“Well, lets get a move on then, umm… Solara, you made the stairs, so, you go first.”

“Thank’s Xander.” Solara remarked sarcastically, making her way up onto the first few stairs, making sure she had good footing and did not touch the flame engulfed railing.

Anselm was next after her, beating Thompson to the stairs by only a moment. Then Xander, Vera, and John brought up the rear. Solara could hardly breath as she climbed the supernatural staircase, the air was changing almost entirely, and she felt as though she would faint as she climbed higher and higher into the column. Finally after what felt like an eternity, she reached the zenith and poked her head into the Digital World. What she saw her eyes scarcely believed, it wasn’t anything that impressive by normal standards, but the fact that she’d lived her entire life in the city orphanage made what she saw even more incomprehensible. The ground was flat, a plain stretched into the distance with forested patches of land every two hundred yards or so, the ground looked somewhat wet, and all the grass was dried and brown and bent down as though it’d been trampled. Solara stood, in awe and confusion. How could a field such as this exist in a city, what was going on?

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” Xander yelled up to Solara, who promptly grasped hold of the column’s rim, which protruded into the Digital World, and hoisted herself over it, smacking hard into the Digital mud. She stood up immediately and brushed herself off and continued examining her strange surroundings. Anselm popped over the edge next, landing on his feet. Years of living on the street had made him agile and quick-footed. He too couldn’t believe his eyes, and actually began rubbing them in a futile attempt to remove the mirage he was convinced he had to be seeing. Thompson was next, he slipped over the edge and to the ground, but nearly slipped in the mud upon landing. His mind and heart began to race at unfathomable speeds when he saw where they were.

“Solara,” he said, his breathing becoming quick and shallow, “where the… where, what?”

“I don’t know Tom, I just don’t know. It’s like we’ve traveled miles, out into farmlands or something. I don’t know how.”

Two questions burned into Thompson’s mind; where in heaven’s name were they and, why was Solara calling him Tom?

[cleansinglight]

Chapter Two: First Contact

Solara’s incredulous mind rejected what her eyes soaked in. She looked around at the others, each of them a similar state of shock, as they ambled into the strange new landscape. It was flat, very flat. The field they were in seemed to stretch forever. They were headed for a small dot in the distance, a dot that resembled a structure, hopefully a house. The sky above them was an odd shade somewhere between gray and blue, the clouds seemed to race by unnaturally fast. The first drops of rain fell to greet them a few moments after their escape from the underground and the rain brought with it a familiar energy. There was not a soul in sight as they marched through the muddy field. Thompson knelt a few times examining something on the ground. Soon the others too slowed to see what he was looking at.

“What is it Thomas?” Xander asked impatiently.

“It’s THOMPSON,” Solara corrected, kneeling beside her friend, “what is it?”

“Boot prints by the looks of it.“ Thompson responded loud enough for everyone to hear, “Heavy boots, whoever left these must been very heavy and very tall too, this is like a size twenty print.”

“Like a giant,” Vera said, suddenly shivering as the wind came howling through the field.

“We climbed a staircase not a beanstalk,” John joked giving her a reassuring smile.

“Let’s get to that house before this storm really picks up,” Xander suggested.

They covered the distance with their mouths quiet but their minds in a flurry of activity. What was this place? What had left those prints? Would it be waiting for them at the farmhouse? It was a farmhouse. They reached it soon enough each breathing a sigh of relief that it was of ordinary size and clearly not the abode of whoever left those footprints in the mud. Thompson peered in through the window, each of them taking a turn at it and each finding the house empty. Xander took initiative as the rain was falling steady now, he opened the door and took the first steps inside. The others followed a bit more tentative. In their world most houses had advanced computer security systems. Here though, they found an ordinary wooden farmhouse, like something out of the nineteen hundreds. It was sparsely furnished and completely ordinary leading them to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Well, this place isn’t so bad,” Vera said managing a smile.

“Weird how it was raining before we left the city and it’s raining here too. Maybe we aren’t far from the city,” Xander theorized.

“We should technically still be in the city,” Solara added, dashing his attempts to rationalize their bizarre situation.

“I think we should go back,” Johnathan said, “I mean, I was really curious when I got that strange feeling… but now, this is just all too strange.”

“I say we at least wait for the rain to stop,” Xander suggested and John nodded his approval.

“Anyone wanna play I Spy?” Anselm joked.

“Or Rock Paper Scissors,” Solara chimed.

“I want to see if I can get this fire going,” John announced seeing Vera shivering and his own breath being visible in the air.

Luckily there was wood piled up beside the fireplace and thanks to Xander’s years as a boy scout soon enough the fire was up and running. The chill permeated the wooden walls and caused them to huddle quite close to the flames. The fire seemed oddly different but the warmth it gave off was just as inviting. Thompson sat and considered each of them one at a time, he knew most of them. Vera was in his math class. Jonathan was on the news from time to time due to his jet setting Billionaire parents. Alexander, or Xander as he liked to be called, was the star baseball player on their High School baseball team. Solara though, Solara he’d only just met. He looked at her now watching the way her hazel-orange eyes caught the light of the fire and seemed to match it’s intensity. Anselm was the other rogue element. He could tell that neither Solara or Anselm were very well off, both were dressed in drab clothing and far underdressed for this late into the Fall. Soon enough he found himself taking off his jacket and offering it to Solara.
“I don’t need it,” she said, “but thanks. I kind of like the cold, the chill, it makes me feel alive.”

“How old are you?” He asked, she looked his age and yet he’d never seen her in school or anywhere else for that matter.

“Seventeen,” She replied, “if you’re wondering what school I go to, I don’t go to one. Well the Nuns at the Orphanage they do teach us but I wouldn’t call it a school.”

“Orphanage,” Thompson said, the word rolled heavy off his tongue.

“Yeah, it’s not as bad as it sounds. It was pretty bad, on a scale of one to living Hell it was only about a six.”

“Shh… did you guys hear that?” Vera asked, and everyone was suddenly silent.

The soft pitter patter of the rain against the roof and windows continued as each of them strained their ears listening to every minute sound. At first there was nothing. Then it came, a faint scratching coming from… the door. They exchanged glances using gestures and mouthing words in an attempt to resolve the situation, daring each other to investigate. Solara gave a frustrated sigh moving towards the door with dainty footfalls and slowly opening the door. She stepped back slowly going for a broom that was propped against the wall and holding it out as a weapon as the thing entered the room.

It was covered in a strange orange fur with a white belly and a long fat body. Most peculiar of all, and what had everyone in the house moving away from it, was the fact it was flying. Two furry bat-like wings protruded from its upper back struggling to carry it’s wait into the one room house. Solara took a half swat at it backing into a corner unsure of exactly what to do. Anselm was the first to act, taking a scrap of food from his pocket he approached the strange animal holding the bit of roast beef out in front of him.

“Here you are, eat,” he said throwing the bit of beef onto the table. The creature landed and approached the meat sniffing at it before it’s tiny tongue licked at the food. A smile, yes a smile, drew up on the animals face as it swallowed down the food and licked its lips, “What the heck are you?”

“I’m Patamon,” the little winged animal replied. The fact that it spoke sent all their minds into a tizzy, “You got anymore of that stuff, I’m starved.”

“It speaks… English,” Xander said aloud trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Of course I speak silly,” Patamon replied flying over to hover in front of Xander’s quite surprised face, “All Digimon can speak.”

“Digimon?” Solara echoed.

“Digital Monsters.”

“Yeah… okay, if you guys need me I’ll be curled into a fetal ball in the corner over here,” Xander said slumping down to the floor.

“What kind of Digimon are you guys?” The strange orange talking bat creature asked “You don’t look like any I’ve seen around here before.”

“We’re humans-” Thompson explained.

“Humons, never heard of a Digimon called Humon.”

“We’re not, what did you say, Digimon,” John attempted to explain, “we’re homo sapiens, we‘re people and you are an animal of some sort, you shouldn‘t be talking.”

“Homo Sapiens, Humons, people, you can’t even decide what you are.” Patamon laughed, flying circles around John’s head.

“This can’t be happening, where are we?” John asked swatting at Patamon and ducking as the little guy dive-bombed him.

“Hell.” Xander replied getting up off the floor.

“Would you please stop being such a wuss,” Anselm said.

“How old are you kid like thirteen?” Xander asked.

“Fourteen,” Anselm replied.

“Fourteen… look kid, I eat kids like you for breakfast okay, don’t push me.”

“You can handle me but you can’t handle a cute little bat, hamster, thing.”

“That is no bat, that is no hamster or rat, that is a demon spawn and we are in Hell and I am being punished for all the cheer leaders I tired to date at the same time, and the time I cheated on finals.”

“Anything else you’d like to confess?” Solara asked with a roll of her eyes, “We are not in hell.”

“Of course not sillies, this is the Digital World,” Patamon said landing on the table.

“Digital World? Like the internet?” Xander reasoned.

“Don’t know the Digital World and don’t know what kind of Digimon you are. Did you all hit your heads really hard?”

“I’m beginning to think so,” Vera admitted.

“Look… Patamon.” Anselm said approaching the little monster, “We’re not from the Digital World, we’re from New York. We’re from a world filled with Humans.”

“Must be a crazy place if they’re all half as confused as you six.”

“We crawled up a staircase,” Anselm further explained , “from an underground chamber. We were in another world but now we are here.”

“Staircase into the Digital World eh? Sounds like stories I heard as a Tokomon.”

“What kinds of stories?”

“Stories of strangers showing up in the Digital World who were very confused and very far from home. You are far from home aren’t you Humon?”

“Call me Anselm.”

“Why?” The furry little thing asked.

“That’s my name.”

“I thought you were a Humon.”

“I am a human.”

“Now I’m the one confused.”

“Guys, the rain’s stopped. We can go home!” Xander exclaimed taking the first few steps outside.

“You want to see our world?” Anselm asked getting up the bravery to pet Patamon on the head something Patamon seemed to like quite a bit.

They set out soon after, making their way through the considerable muck toward the home they’d left behind. They were so slow Patamon grew tired of waiting up and eventually just landed on Anselm’s shoulder. Anselm didn’t mind it one bit, he’d taken a shine to the little guy. He petted Patamon on the head hearing a strange purring like noise emanate from his body. For a bizarre mutant he was a nice little furry bat-thing. Even Xander didn’t so much mind the presence of Patamon, though his mind was mostly on getting out of the nightmare he’d found himself in. They marched across the plane soon enough catching sight of the column from which they’d emerged into the Digital World.

The Digital World. It weighed on their minds as they made their way. Nothing about it felt Digital, it all felt so real, far more real than any virtual reality they’d ever experienced back home. As they neared the tunnel Patamon’s wings perked up and he let out a low growl. Anselm stopped and the others did soon enough, except Xander who just kept marching through the mud.

“What is it little guy?” Anselm asked.

“I can sense some Digimon nearby… not nice ones otherwise I wouldn’t be able to feel them like this. Look at those boot prints on the ground.”

“We saw these on the way to the farmhouse,” John said with a shrug.

“It was raining pretty hard,” Thompson reminded, “these are fresh.”

“What should we do?” Vera asked biting her lip in uncertainty.

“Go home!” Xander called back to her, he was nearly to the column that had given them entry. The others watched him standing still as he reached the opening and took a look around. Suddenly they saw several hulking forms lunge from the tree line some distance away. Soon Xander was starting back at breakneck speed toward the rest of the gang. They began moving backward as well as the massive mob of monsters, humanoids some eight feel tall, were in hot pursuit. As they ran the mud seemed to grab at them, while the heavy boots and long strides of the giants had them quickly gaining.

“What about the gate!?” John yelled to Xander as they ran for the farmhouse.

“Closed up! Paved over! It wouldn’t budge! I didn’t have time to try out any other ideas!”

“What the hell are these things?” Solara asked turning back for only a moment to get a glimpse of them.

“Tulismon!” Patamon yelled in response, “Bandits. Run!”

They did run, they ran for their lives reaching the farmhouse with very few seconds to spare and quickly barricading the door with the table, the two chairs and all of the remaining fire wood. Still it seemed hopeless, especially as the brutes reached the house bashing against the door with their shoulders. It took only three good pushes to barrel through the door and knock away the debris in front of it. The monsters revealed themselves now. They were humanoid but far from human, their bodies wrapped in black clothing concealing all but their sickly snake-like eyes. Each of them brandished a weapon of some sort and aside from the differing weapons each was identical. Only three of them fit in the farmhouse, more hulking forms surrounded the outside.

“Well well. What have we here?” One of them growled “A patamon and some very strange looking Digimon.”

“Let’s take em to the boss and see what he wants done with them, they might make good slaves.”

“Or an even tastier meal,” another Tulismon snarled.

They surrendered. What else could they do? Soon they were bound and gagged and held at the tip of a large spear. Forced to walk off toward whatever fate their captors had in store.

[Lilymon]

wow. just wow. thats really really really good. post more soon.

[cleansinglight]

To Lilymon: Thank you for your reply, I'm glad you liked it

I'm hard at work planning out the later portions and of course working on the actual chapters, I've cooked up some stuff I think everyone will love. On to Chapter 3:

Chapter Three: Captive

Thompson’s feet hurt, his head ached and his body felt chilled to the bone. Their long hike, at the mercy of the Tulismon, had finally come to an end. They were deep inside a forest to the south of the farmhouse. Thompson had made sure he marked the trip with landmarks in case they were able to escape, he hoped it would be enough. The forest was an eerie place, despite it being mid-fall most of the trees retained their leaves and loomed over the encampment they were entering. Here they found more Tulismon, at least a dozen of them and here they found other creatures working. Every so often one of the smaller Digimon would be whipped by a Tulismon or kicked for not moving fast enough.

Their captors prodded them into the camp through a large wooden gate and slammed the gate shut behind them edging them along with the tip of that deadly spear. The Tulismon lead them through the camp to the other side, all manor of Digimon watched from their cages and chain-gangs as the kids and Patamon were brought to the head Tulismon.

“Well, well, what have we here. Some more Digimon for the workforce,” the leader said inspecting them, “these six are mighty strange.”

“That’s because we’re not Digimon,” Xander explained, hoping he could reason with the bandit.

“Not Digimon? What kinda not Digimon are you, an alien?” The Tulismon asked with a scoffing tone.

“Well yeah, more or less.”

“Then where’s your starship, Vademon?” The head Tulismon joked and the others of his kind thought the joke a funny one too.

“We’re not Digimon,” Xander said, glaring at the creature angrily, “we’re humans.”

“Humons, aliens, whatever you are you will make excellent workers.” The lead Tulismon snarled, “Take them in with the others and get them to work excavating before the boss gets back.”

Xander gave a frustrated sigh as they were corralled into the work camp towards a row of squalid cages and shoved inside. The seven of them were cramped into one cave but the Tulismon had cut their bindings leaving their hands free at last. Patamon too was free, he stretched his wings as far as they could go but there would be no flying out of this cage, the bars were far too close together for him to slip through. He landed on Anselm’s shoulders and smiled a little when Anselm took him and hugged him. They could see the Tulismon in the distance getting shovels and chains ready for them to join the chain gang. All hearts sunk.

“Great, this is just great,” Xander moaned.

“I had no idea this place was here,” Patamon said taking a look around, “look how many Digimon there are. There‘s a Bogmon over there, Gizamon, Gatomon. This is just awful.”

“Awful is an understatement little guy,” Solara said with a gulp as the Tulismon returned to the gate unlocking and throwing the seven out into the camp.

“Get digging!” One of them shouted tossing the shovels down on the ground as another clipped the chains onto their ankles to bind them together.

“What exactly are we digging for?” John asked helping Vera up off the ground.

“No one knows,” a nearby Digimon replied. He was about twice Patamon’s size, toad-like with four legs and a black purple body and a yellow dorsal ridge as well as several yellow and green spots on his moist amphibious skin.

“Why is that giant toad talking?” Xander asked sticking his shovel into the dirt in an attempt to look busy for the guards.

“That’s not a giant toad silly,” Patamon corrected , “that’s a Bogmon.”

“Guess I better get used to all these talking monsters.” Xander said with a reluctant sigh, “Hello, Bogmon, how are you?”

“Enslaved.”
“Sorry to hear that buddy, us too,” Xander replied patting Bogmon on the head but finding it left a sticky residue all over his hand which he desperately tried to wipe off.

“Sorry about that,” Bogmon replied with a grin, “now if you’ll excuse me I have to get back to work before they whip me.”

“This is awful,” Vera lamented, “all these little Digimon.”

“And us having to do work,” John complained as he lifted his third shovel full of dirt.

“I think you’ll live richboy, I think you’ll live,” Xander replied.

They got into a rhythm together after that, removing the soil according to a grid pattern the other Digimon had apparently created. Thompson remembered that they were meant to be excavating and although he had no real intention of pleasing his new Digital overlords he wasn’t anxious to see what happened if they failed to produce results. Still, as he bent to examine the soil layer they’d just reached, he was unsure what exactly they were looking for. He hadn’t found anything artificial but that failed to bother him. What did bother him was the lack of organic matter, aside from the plant debris from trees and the like there was no animal life below the soil. No bugs. No earthworms. Already the evidence was overwhelming that they were no longer on Earth but if they were on another planet how had they reached it via an ancient staircase? And furthermore where was this planet and why did the alien life forms all speak English?

Thompson stood and returned to shoveling. They had to keep working. Even when they were working at a feverish pace the Tulismon watched them with closely and every so often threatened them with violence, pointing a sword their way or cracking a whip just a few inches away from striking them. Spirits were sinking even lower as the day wore on and the sun slipped lower in the sky. Each layer of soil they removed was shoveled into buckets, inspected and then, if nothing was found, carried out of the camp. As darkness began to fall the kids were unchained and shoved into their cell by an angry Tulismon but not before catching sight of something coming in the front gate.

Thompson had never seen anything like it. It resembled a cross between a dragon and a gorilla, with massive red wings, talons, and scaley reptilian skin covered in a layer of brown fur. To his confusion the guards did nothing to impede the creature’s progress, in fact the Tulismon seemed to respect this monstrous thing, several of them bowing slightly. They watched from the cage as the dragon-thing, which must have been ten feet tall at least, stomped its way through the camp surveying the soil and nodding with approval every so often.

“Progress is good,” the dragon beast said, “have you found anything yet?”

“No sir, you are positive what we are looking for is in this part of the forest?”

“Absolutely, the legends all say so, we should find it any day now.”

Thompson struggled to listen as the conversation grew farther and farther away but soon it became impossible. He’d put away his surprise that the creature could talk and come to the conclusion that speech was universal here in the Digital World. He turned to Solara, who’d been listening just as closely. Given the amount of work they’d just done he thought he’d find her exhausted, instead an aura of anger and an expression of rage were on her beautiful face. She rattled at the bars of the cage angrily and spit in the dust before sitting on the soil floor the cages were imbedded in. Thompson regarded them all now, most of them looked very tired indeed, especially Jonathan. He turned to see the cage beside them and saw the familiar face of Bogmon staring at them.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the work,” Bogmon said with a friendly grin.

“I don’t think I want to,” Xander said with a sigh, “Bogmon, is there any way to escape?”

“Am I still in here?” Bogmon responded “Don’t lose hope though, someday we will be free.”

“What about that creature we saw?” Thompson asked, “The dragon.”

“Podramon,” Bogmon replied, his voice now but a whisper, “he is in charge of this excavation.”

“What exactly are we excavating?” Jonathan asked, looking at his blistered dirty hands.

“Well, from what we’ve heard its some kind of artifact of great power or importance,” Bogmon whispered, “there are legends of such things in these woods. They say a great power resides here.”

“I’m not sure I want to help that thing get more powerful,” Xander said, “he looks pretty big and powerful to begin with.”

“Indeed,” Bogmon agreed, “now I suggest we get some rest before the guards hear us.”

Morning came far too soon for the companions, especially since the Tulismon awakened them in the pale blue light of pre-dawn. Soon enough the shackles were back on and they were lined up in a new area of the camp instructed to keep digging until they found anything of interest. They went to it reluctantly with blank expressions going through the motions robotically. Dwelling on their predicament would only make things worse. Poor Patamon could barely keep up, his tiny legs weren’t made for digging. Anselm watched his little friend claw at the dirt in a futile attempt to dig a hole. He bent down petting Patamon and lifting the poor creature.

“I’m sorry we got you into this Patamon,” Anselm lamented.

“It’s not your fault Anselm,” Patamon whined with tears in his eyes.

“Hey you! Put that Patamon down and get back to work,” one of the Tulismon roared, a whip stroke hitting Anselm in the leg and knocking him to the dirt. Anselm got up and picked up his shovel holding back his anger and sadness.

“Wait a minute,” Xander said, nearly yelling, once the guard had gotten a distance away, “Patamon has wings!”

“They have arrows,” Patamon reminded him, “I doubt I’d make it very far.”

“Still,” Xander postulated further, “it’s the best chance we have. You can fly away and get help.”

“Who?” Patamon asked dashing Xander’s momentary hopes.

“Back to shoveling,” Xander said with a defeated sigh.

“You might be on to something there friend,” a voice caught their attention and they turned to find Bogmon standing behind them, “a Dyrasmon came in today, she’s the fairy over there.”

Bogmon pointed with his frog tongue at a three foot tall fairy-like creature at the far end of the camp. She was brown with green clothing and her skin almost looked like it was more plant matter than anything animal. One thing she definitely did have, was wings. A trail of sparkling dust was left in her wake.

“She’s beautiful,” John admitted, “but how is she going to help us?”

“She just happens to know of a local band of heroes,” Bogmon whispered.

“Band of heroes?” Thompson echoed, hope emerging on his face.

“So what’s the plan?” Patamon asked with a mischievous grin.

“A distraction,” Bogmon answered, “we create a distraction big enough to let them fly to get help.”

“What distraction though?” Vera asked.

“We pretend to find something,” Xander said, “we can pretend we excavated something.”

“I’ll tell Dyrasmon, you get back to work,” Bogmon said hopping away, “I think the guard is coming. I’ll be back to let you know when it goes down.”

The gang got back to work, wanting to avoid anymore whips. They worked with more fervor now, half hoping to really discover something buried in the dirt. It would certainly make the distraction easier if they actually uncovered something. They resisted the urge to constantly check over their shoulders at what Bogmon and Dyrasmon were up to instead keeping their minds on the task at hand. Still, even with work to be done, their minds wandered back home to the real world. Even Solara was looking forward to seeing the orphanage again. She wondered if anyone even knew she was gone.

Thompson, on the other hand, wasn’t done exploring this Digital World. Though certainly he longed for freedom from this wretched camp he realized that the forest they were in was quite beautiful and the exotic life forms were more than interesting enough to warrant further investigation and an extended stay. Still he was anxious to get out of the camp and away from the Tulismon. The friendly nature of the other Digimon they’d encounter inspired him that all these creatures were not bad, in fact the majority were nice. He looked at the others, realizing that most of them might turn back to the real world.

The hours passed slowly, tediously, and layer after layer of soil were removed and sifted. Nothing was uncovered, not so much as a shard of pottery from some bygone era. As the day wound down they gradually slowed their efforts, convinced that no discovery was to be made to make their distraction more convincing. It was late afternoon by the time Bogmon and Dyrasmon made their way over, revealing the plan of escape. It was fairly simple. The six of them would make a big deal out of a rock buried in the loose soil claiming it was an artifact while Dyrasmon and Patamon escaped to gather help.

“You are sure this group is real?” Xander asked the fairy.

“Yes, they are only a few miles away too. I’ve seen their leader Leomon not far from here fighting the Tulismon himself.”

“Well,” Thompson said with a determined tone, “let’s get this thing underway BEFORE that dragon Podramon comes back.”

“Indeed, good luck,” Dyrasmon said.

Dyrasmon and Patamon flew away together, moving to another side of the camp as the six of them dug a whole and buried a rock. They dug the rock out a little excitedly jumping up and down as they did. It didn’t take long for the guards to become interested. The Tulismon moved in with whips and spears at the ready to doll out any punishment they deemed fit. They found the six of them hopping up and down wildly screeching and pointing at the ground.

“What’s all this then?” one of the guards growled.

“We found it!” Anselm shouted.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Solara celebrated with a dance.

“We found the artifact!” Xander confirmed.

The six went back to their screeching noticing the crowd of onlookers that was gathering. There were seven Tulismon now, and at least ten worker Digimon surrounding them all awestruck by the bizarre spectacle. One of the Tulismon moved in pushing the six of them from their pit and kneeling to get a good look at the dirt. As he did Anselm turned over his shoulder, they all did, incorporating the look back as part of their peculiar victory dance. They could see Dyrasmon and Patamon slip over the high wooden walls of the slave camp and disappear into the forest. Each of them said a silent prayer hoping their friends would be alright and return with help as the cool breeze carried them along.

“This looks like an ordinary rock,” the Tulismon rumbled angrily.

“That’s what I said,” Vera admitted, turning a scolding eye on everyone else in the ground, “but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Something’s fishy here,” one of the guards spit.

“Get back to work you six,” another commanded, “and if I see anything like this again I’ll order a double flogging for you Humon scum.”

The six of them stopped their flailing and picked up their shovels obediently keeping their eyes on the dirt below. The Tulismon stormed off leaving three of their compatriots as an extra guard for the trouble makers. The crowd of Digimon soon dispersed leaving the six to finish the evening’s work and cross their fingers that the plan would work. Freedom or bust.


A quick note: This is the first chapter where the Digimon I made up myself start playing an important roll starting of course with the bandits Tulismon. I thought I put my own personal notes from when I came up with them:

Tulismon - Champion - Name: From the Filipino word for bandit tulisan. Tulismon are a common sight in the forces of the bad guys for the story, they are the standard henchmen and appear like orge-like men dressed in bandit armor. Attacks: Highwayman Hammer, Arrow of Thieves, Bandit Blade

More stuff to come soon

[cleansinglight]

Chapter Four: Leomon’s Liberators

Darkness consumed their dreams as they slept. Their aching muscles finally able to rest for a few fleeting hours away from their enslavement. Even in their dreams though, their slavery haunted them, the long shadow of their captors over them, the ever present danger of whips, spears and arrows.

Thompson woke with a start, his heart pounding heavy in his chest and a cold sweat racing down his brow. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, looking over his sleeping companions. He looked up at the sky, the stars staring back at him were unfamiliar to his eyes but no less beautiful than the ones on Earth. He turned his attention to the two moons, one a perfect pale blue sphere, the other tan and craterous. Several of the craters were so large they likely had threatened the moon itself, and at least moved its orbit farther from the planet they were on. The planet they were on… where was it? Was it in the same Universe as the Earth? Was it all in his mind, this place just a hallucination designed to help him cope with reality? No, he looked at his hands, covered in dirt and blisters. He looked at the bars of the cage… this was real.

Thompson turned to Solara, who slept upon the soft soil beneath them. She looked so radiant, even covered in dirt. He lay back on the dirt, praying to whatever deities this world might hold that Patamon would be successful in finding them help. He’d helped get them into this mess, he wanted them all free, even the Digimon. Slavery was no way for a sentient being to live. His eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep.

The sound of a trumpet awoke him a little while later. He shot up to his feet in an instant looking around for the source of the sound to find the Tulismon at the front gate sounding the alarm. One of the Tulismon unsheathed his sword and rushed out of the camp into the forest.

Outside the gate the Tulismon had gathered together, their eyes searching the forests. One of them, a scout, had returned reporting he’d been attacked by something out in the woods but hadn’t gotten a good look at it. Now all twelve Tulismon had eyes glued to the forest, searching the densely packed trees for any signs of hostile activity.

“Well, I don’t see anything,” one of them spit.

“I tell ya it was big, damn big, furry to,” the scout said, lifting his hand above his head to show the height of what he saw.

“Leomon,” one of the other Tulismon growled, “the hero of the wood.”

“He’s just a myth,” one chimed.

As they bickered none noticed the flanking maneuver that was happening silently. Leomon, his hulking feline frame towering in at ten and a half feet, made his way quietly toward the back entrance of the camp. He stood frozen for a second, his cat eyes making out the forms of two more Tulismon walking the permiter. He crouched behind several bushes and unsheathed his sword waiting as the Tulismon approached. Neither of the poor Digimon had any idea he was there but as they reached the far edge of the camp they turned around to make their way back, they turned in time to see Leomon in the open. The great hero leapt from the bushes and went to work sweeping the legs from one Tulismon while using his sword to stab into the other. The fight had cost him, as several other guards came around the corner to check on the noise. Leomon had luckily dragged the bodies into the bushes, still it was only a matter of time until they were discovered.

He had to act quickly. He pulled a grappling hook from his sack and tossed it over the wall, scaling the wooden barrier in a few seconds flat and hitting the ground on the other side with a thud.

“Come on, we’re wasting our time, there’s nothing out here,” one of the Tulismon said.

“We gotta get those slaves to work before the boss gets back,” another growled.

“I’m telling you I saw Leomon!”

“Yeah yeah, sure you did, you saw-”

The Tulismon was cut short as four Digimon stepped from the forest, one of them had hit him in the back with a powerful gust of air. One of them was tall, horned, and dressed in very strange attire. The other three were fairly small but none of them looked at all happy. The first little one was Patamon, the orange winged creature looked familiar to the guards though none could quite put a finger on why. The second, a fairy-like Digimon, stared with a powerful anger in her eyes. The third Rookie was a four foot tall feline with orange-yellow fur that seemed to stand on end and blackened razor claws. It stood on two legs and was covered in black stripes.

“You have defiled this forest,” one of the Digimon, a pixie-like creature, said.

“You have enslaved the free,” the large horned one said.

“Who are you?”

“I am Yasyamon, servant of all that is good and punisher of those who are not so good.”

“You think you that you four can take us twelve?”

“No,” the menacing Yasyamon said with a cold tone, “I think I could take you myself, these three, they’re just insurance.”

Yasyamon lunged forward, lifting his Kendo Swords and knocking the blades from the hands of two Tulismon. He then reversed the attack knocking the legs from under the Tulismon on the right and finishing him with his left Kendo Sword. The left Tulismon had drawn a dagger driving it down toward Yasyamon, who blocked it with his arm guard, head butting the Tulismon, jabbing his two horns into the eyes of the wicked bandit. By this time the other enemies had begun to arm themselves.

“Puppet Master,” Yasyamon shouted, his hands going up and one of the Tulismon’s arms went up as well. Yasyamon controlled his foe having the Tulismon turn his bandit blade on the other enemies. While he controlled one of them with his mind he moved in with his swords to deal with the others. Between his puppet and himself he was managing to fight four of them at once quite effectively blocking each blow and parrying each thrust to perfection. The Tulismon facing their own friend didn’t know what to whether to go for the kill or not, reluctant to hurt one of their own kind as they desperately defended his relentless attacks.

The other three Digimon split up now. The feline dashed like lightning toward two of the Tulismon on the left flank who had been hesitant to join the battle against Yasyamon. The bandits were happy to brandish their blades against the cat-like Rookie, thinking they would have themselves an easy victory. In an instant their plans were dashed to pieces as the feral Digimon they faced leapt into the air swatting, arcs of golden electricity pouring from his cat paws leaping to strike the Tulismon’s swords. The Tulismon, feeling the jolt rush through them, dropped their swords, each lunging at the cat but neither fast enough to catch him.

On the other flank of the Tulismon line was Patamon and Dyrasmon, who had flown forward to meet the remaining bandit in battle. Even facing two Rookies the bandit swung his sword with arrogant over energetic swings, laughing as he did. Patamon had a hard time flying fast enough to avoid the swings, but Dyrasmon managed to fly circles around the bandit so fast her fairy dust trail blinded the beast. The Tulismon was left swinging in wild arcs leaving him fully vulnerable for a Boom Bubble. Patamon huffed in a lung of air launching the powerful gust to further imbalance the bandit sending him stumbling into Dyrasmon’s small but powerful punches. The fairy scratched with her bark-like nails each attack shredding away at the clothing and armor of the Tulismon, sometimes reaching the skin beneath the black cloth.

Back in camp Leomon had set everyone free, all the Digimon limped from their cages but where once their hearts had been heavy and wills broken Leomon detected the return of hope in each of their eyes. He gathered them around as the remaining Tulismon guards, who numbered only about five, came out to surround them.

“Leomon I presume,” Xander greeted the courageous lion.

“Indeed… Patamon said they were keeping Digimon captive here but you do not look like any Digimon I’ve ever seen.”

“We get that a lot,” Xander assured.

“We’re going to have to fight our way out,” Leomon declared, “I will take the two guards behind us. I want you, Floramon, Bogmon, Gommomon, Tentomon and Kunemon to take the two who are approaching from the front gate.”

“What about us?” Jonathan asked, anxious to get his revenge.

“Do you six have any attacks?” Leomon asked.

“Well,” Anselm replied with a grin, “we have shovels.”

“Works for me, you get the guard over there on the left. Now, FOR FREEDOM!”

And with that the attack was on. The kids picked up their shovels and charged the Tulismon guard. Though their bellies had been empty save some strange stale fruit the Tulismon had fed them, they moved with all the righteous anger of their hearts against their captor. The Tulismon knocked aside Anselm and Vera with one arm while slicing at Jonathan with his sword. John blocked it, barely, the impact sending him sliding into the dirt. Thompson drew close to the bandit looking over to Solara for reassurance, she offered a wink. They both went in, but instead of going high they went low, sliding under the slicing attack of the Tulismon to smack the metal shovel heads right into the shins of the giant. The Tulismon roared in pain as a second pair of shovel blows hit his knees. Now Solara and Thompson reached the shovels behind the bandit’s legs tripping the guard up and jumping on him like some Lilliputian army. The six of them looked back to see that Leomon had made short work of his two enemies as had already moved on to help the slaves deal with their two targets. With shovels in the air the six of them charged forward to help their fellow captives.

Outside the gate the fight was still going on. Yasyamon had to break his psychic puppetry of one of the Tulismon off to concentrate on his foes who were proving more troublesome then he’d anticipated. Still he was easily holding his own against the five of them, with at least two of them so injured they could hardly continue to block his swords let alone put up any kind of attack. He moved in for the kill on those two now, smacking them into each other and pushing off of them using the momentum to get a leap attack on two others. He turned for a moment to see his feline friend Haomon was having trouble and clearly growing tired, whilst Patamon and Dyrasmon had tired their enemy out and had nearly knocked him out.

Dyrasmon had grown tired of the games they were playing with this Tulismon. While they’d managed to do damage to it none of their attacks had been strong enough to knock it out and the bandit kept flailing in anger, each failed attack making it only more determined to slice them in two. She finally resolved to finish it, seeing Patamon take a deep breath she too prepared a special attack.

“Wooden Wing!” she shouted releasing a burst of sparks from her wings that met the Tulismon at the same moment as Patamon’s Boom Bubble knocking the Tulismon into a spiral until he collapsed to the ground in a heap. She checked and her foe was indeed unconscious. Her eyes went over to Haomon and to her surprise she found the feline Digimon getting knocked over by a powerful kick from the eight foot Tulismon. Both giants loomed over Haomon now threatening to crush the tired Digmon under their boots. Dyrasmon rushed over launching another Wooden Wing attack mainly to blind the Tulismon and send them backpedaling. It worked and Patamon kept them distracted as she helped Haomon to his feet.

“Thank you,” Haomon purred, standing up and attempting to regain a fighting stance.

“You can’t fight, you’re too weak.”

“You two are too tired to take out these two by yourselves.”

“DOUBLE STRIKE!”

The loud yell came from Yasyamon, who had crossed his swords. A powerful burst of energy came forward from them knocking the two remaining Tulismon to the ground.

“Good work old friend,” Leomon called, making his way toward Yasyamon with the freed captives just behind, “now, let us get moving, any other Tulismon in the area will be sure to have heard that.”

“Not to mention that foul smelling Podramon,” Bogmon croaked.

This was it, they were free. The Digital World didn’t seem so bad a place after all and as the kids made their way to Leomon’s camp they found they were in good company. Leomon led them forward without fear, stopping to check tracks in the forest and on the trail, pointing out every Digimon to the six of them as though he knew of their ignorance on the subject. When they at last reached the camp the towering lion offered them a place to rest for the night on a bed of soft branches and a pink something he called Sheepmon wool. Their minds were, for the first time in days, truly at peace and sleep came swiftly to their tired bodies.


Notes: This chapter introduces a new Digimon that I invented. Also, in the last Chapter we met Dyrasmon and Bogmon. All three are my own creations, here are the origins of their names:

Haomon- Rookie- Name: From the Native American Thunder god Haokah

Dyrasmon-Rookie-Name: From Dyrad, a wood nymph

Bogmon - From Chernobog the Slavic god of Darkness and also from the word Bog as he is amphibious.

[cleansinglight]

This is a bit embarrassing to admit but I had to go back and do some major edits on the first chapter that effect the story a great deal... I made the mistake of putting Xander as Vera's boyfriend in the first chapter when in fact it's Jonathan that is her boyfriend. So I had to go back and fix it. I need to look at my notes more carefully

[Deji]

Lol don't worry about it its okay. Do you have a Fanfiction account?

[cleansinglight]

Thanks for the reply

I have a fanfiction account under the pen name Titen-Sxull.

[Deji]

I'll have to look it up on there next time i get the chance.

[cleansinglight]

Chapter Five: Legends of the Dark Forest

The morning forest seemed to come to life as the sunrays cut through the densely packed trees to form illuminated splotches of light all over the camp of Leomon and his crew. The camp was now full, extra tents and bedrolls had been laid out for the newcomers, those liberated from Podramon’s slave camp.

Anselm was the first human to open his eyes. He smiled when he saw Patamon’s furry little form curled up beside him. He gently ran his fingers through Patamon’s fur before trying to get up without disturbing his fuzzy friend. The camp was already a buzz with Digimon darting to and fro collecting fruit from some nearby trees and firewood to keep the night’s fire burning long enough to cook some breakfast. Breakfast… the idea made Anselm’s stomach rumble with hunger but he was a bit nervous to step out into the camp of Digimon all by himself and get something to eat. His hunger quickly over came his fear when he saw Dyrasmon carrying a woven basket filled with fruit and a yellow vegetable that looked a little like corn.

“Can I have one?” Anselm called to her and she turned with a warm smile and flew over to him.

“Here,” she said handing him the whole basket, “an appetizer for your group. I’m sure you guys are mighty hungry.”

“Thanks,” Anselm nodded already having a bite of a spherical red-pink fruit that tasted a bit like an apple crossed with a peach. He turned to wake Patamon to find the little guy hovering just behind him, “Patamon, sheesh, you scared me.”

“Stealthy like a Ninjamon, that’s me, what you got there?”

“Some fruit for us, wake the others so they can have some too.”

“Can do,” Patamon grinned taking in a deep breath, “Boom Bubble!”

The breeze he released from his lungs was strong enough to knock the Sheepmon wool blankets right off the snoozing group but was weak enough not to cause any real discomfort. Still each and every one was up and about and Patamon was whistling innocently as he found himself a nice juicy piece of fruit to eat.

“This is probably the last fruit of the year before Winter sets in,” Patamon announced with his mouth munching away.

“Winter, they have Winter here in the Digital World?” Thompson asked, looking around at the forest unable to tell if the trees were deciduous or evergreen.

“Yeah, so what?” Patamon asked.

“Well that would mean the planet is on an axis as it faces the sun,” Thompson said.

“Please, no science lectures before breakfast,” Xander said rubbing his growling stomach as he chose an odd shaped melon from the breakfast basket.

“This is just the appetizer to breakfast,” Anselm replied wiping the fruit juice mustache that he’d grown, “according to Dyrasmon.”

“What I wouldn’t give for some ham.” John moaned.

“Ham? What is Ham?” Patamon asked, his stomach so fat he could barely fly.

“Ham… as in meat.”

“As in the flesh of a Digimon!?” Patamon recoiled in horror, hiding behind Anselm.

“Well no, back on Earth we eat animals,” Solara clarified calmly, “there are no Digimon there.”

“And these animals, how do they feel about being eaten?”

“They can’t talk,” John said, feeling a bit bad about scaring the little guy, “they aren’t intelligent like you Digimon are. Besides, it’s sort of eat or be eaten, survival of the fittest, don’t Digimon ever eat other Digimon?”

“Well, not usually,” Patamon answered, feeling more at ease now, “but I heard of someone getting mauled by a Grizzlymon once, and all they found was a tuft of fur. The Grizzlymon apologized for eating him, or so goes the story.”

“Even the bears can talk on this planet,” Vera remarked with a laugh, taking a second piece of fruit.

“Well Patamon,” Anselm said, still quite hungry, “what do you say we see what they’re making over the fire?”

“Hang on a second, I’m still a bit-” Patamon let out a powerful belch, so strong it nearly knocked them over, “yeah, okay, I have room now.”

“Gross,” Vera remarked as Anselm and Patamon frolicked away.

“I am so glad we don’t have to do anymore digging,” Jonathan mumbled as he stuffed his face.

“I think I might throw up if I ever see a shovel again,” Vera agreed.

“Still, now that we’re out,” Xander said, “I could get used to this place.”

“I’m a bit surprised to hear you say that Alex,” Solara replied with a slightly snarky tone, she could tell calling him Alex seemed to bother him.

“Xander if you please,” he replied too preoccupied with his food to be bent out of shape, “Alex is my Father’s name.”

“Well, I’m going over to see what’s cooking,” John announced, “’you want to come Vera?”

“No, I think I need some more sleep, I might go back to bed for an hour.”

“Kay,” he replied kissing her on the lips gently before moving off. He was met on his way over to the fire by the fairy Digimon Dyrasmon who looked at him with a curious expression as he approached the center of the camp.

“Why are you following me?” John asked, considering the luminescent eyes of the fairy.

“I was curious.”

“About what?” John asked, seeing that all of what was cooking over the fire was some strange fruits or vegetables in a stew pot.

“That thing you did back there… with the other Humon.”

“Who, you mean Vera? That was a kiss.”

“A kiss? What is a kiss?”

“You know, a kiss, it’s something humans do when they like each other. Vera‘s my girlfriend, so I kissed her.”

“A display of affection then?” Dyrasmon deduced, “I imagine it excites the skin.”

“Yeah, don’t Digimon kiss?”

“Well, I don’t know, you see I have lived in this forest my entire life. As a nature lover, a spirit of the forest, I really wouldn’t know where else to go, that’s how the Tulismon wound up capturing me. I had nowhere to run.”

“That’s messed up, I still can’t believe those bullies and what they did. And to such a beautiful little fairy.”

“Thank you for your kind words. Now if you’ll excuse me I must continue fetching food.”

“Of course,” John nodded, “nice talking to you.”

John watched the graceful pixie dance across the air and out of the camp. He had to admit he was getting used to all the weirdness around and despite a dull wishing for his former life of luxury in the back of his head, he didn’t mind sticking around. He watched the vegetables as they roasted over the fire and noticed that some Digimon resembled plants. Wasn’t this cannibalism or had those Digimon merely adapted to disguise themselves as plants? John shook his head in amazement, he had a tentative grasp on Earthly evolution and now here he was staring at these strange creatures on a new planet. Who knows how any of these things got started or how far this planet was from Earth. They’d come pretty far from home for having merely climbed a stone staircase. Still, something in his heart told him that heading home prematurely would spoil this chance at freedom and adventure. He’d grown up spoiled, trapped in a private school life of luxury but now he was out without planners, sitters or nurses keeping him on schedule. He looked over to Vera. He’d expected her to be miserable; instead he saw she was napping peacefully her tan skin wrapped in an angelically innocent luminosity highlighted by the sunlight that shot down in rays through the dense canopy of the forest.

Soon enough the food was done, Leomon let out a triumphant roar announcing the breakfast call. Everyone was in line for the feast and there was more than enough to go around. Each had their turn and got their fill before taking their seats as they could find them. Several wooden tables, makeshift as they were, had been set up and those that couldn’t find a seat there had their choice of buckets, basins, and baskets to sit on. It was a fairly big crowd. Leomon, Haomon, and several others apparently connected to their group were there as well as all the Digimon freed from the Tulismon labor camp. Aside from those some local Digimon had apparently shown up, any who were hungry or had the time to help feed the hungry had turned out.

“I’d like to offer my thanks,” Leomon said as everyone had found their seats; many had already begun eating, “to those who helped prepare this feast. Dyrasmon, Haomon, Babamon, Floramon, Palmon and our wonderful cook Shamamon and of course the bounty of the Dark Forest. Many of you have noticed that there are some among us who do not seem to belong. Let me say that these travelers are welcome here, for indeed many of those who pass through these walls are misfits and wanderers and yet they all find themselves a good meal and good friends.”

Leomon let them eat now, watching over the procession and having barely anything to eat despite his massive height. Thompson watched the lion carefully, noting the courageous flame that seemed to burn beneath Leomon’s eyes. Thompson also noticed several scars on the great lion. A large gash across the chest and a burn on his forearm and a small cut under his eye were among them. Not only was there signs of Leomon having been in a great deal of fights but he also had graying fur, a sign of aging. After the meal Thompson persuaded the others to talk with Leomon alone. The great lion considered the group as they came to him while he seemed to me meditating in the south of the camp. Nearby Yasyamon also meditated, the giant horned fighter had been absent from the feast entirely.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Thompson uttered, “and for coming to set us free.”

“I was but a small part in your rescue,” Leomon replied with a smile, “and you are welcome to stay with us any time. It is not everyday we get, whatever it is you, are around here.”

“We’re humans,” Xander answered, feeling a bit like a broken record, “we keep trying to tell everyone we meet. We’re not Digimon. We’re something entirely different.”

“Well whatever you are you are welcome here.”

“See, that’s the thing,” John started, “we’re not sure where here is. This Digital World, where is it?”

“Seems an odd question,” Leomon said scratching his chin and pondering the inquiry, “In relation to what? We have recently found that we are not the only planet around the sun, there are six others with us.”

“In what Solar System, in what Galaxy? In What UNIVERSE!” Xander exclaimed, his voice rising and his arms flailing to emphasize the scope.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, what other Universe is there?” Leomon asked, a bit perplexed by Xander’s animated antics.

“Never mind,” Solara said calmly, seeing the confusion on Leomon’s face, “Can you at least tell us the origin, the history of this world.”

“I’m afraid most of it has been lost to time young one,” another voice smoothly sang; Yasyamon had moved to join them, “there are some legends, myths really. Legends of ancient relics, of nine powerful Digimon forming the Digital World under the guidance of a grand creator.”

“Relics? Like the ones Podramon was digging for?” Thompson asked turning toward the imposing Yasyamon but feeling strangely at ease with him.

“Yes young one. He searches for them, ancient relics of power hidden away in an ancient Temple that have not been seen in over a century. Most Digimon don’t live that long and those that do scarcely have the memory of the times that came before. Podramon searches for the Temple and its power.”

“It is very troublesome,” Leomon now spoke, his tone much more serious, “that Podramon is seeking out the relics of the Dark Forest. If he finds the ancient Temple he will surely use the relics for evil. He already has slave camps and Tulismon raiding and attacking every village on Fortes Island.”

“My friend is right,” Yasyamon agreed, “Podramon and his gang appeared a few months ago. At first we thought they were merely ruffians, now it is confirmed. They are looking for the relics.”

“What power could some old object have?” Xander asked, “We’re not honestly to believe it has some supernatural power are we? Guys, this isn’t Indiana Jones.”

“In case you haven’t noticed ALEX,” Solara replied with attitude in her tone, “we’re talking to a giant humanoid lion. I think the impossible no longer exists as far as we’re concerned.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Xander replied, too preoccupied with the logic she had used to really get angry at the nickname.

“Well, I sort of want to go home,” Anselm admitted, Patamon, who sat on his shoulder, immediately frowned, “and I’m sure we all do, eventually, but I think we should help them find this Temple first even if the artifacts don’t have any power finding them would still help put this Podramon guy out of business.”

“Sounds good to me,” Vera agreed.

“Let’s do it,” Thompson nodded.

“Alright, alright, we’re all going to this hidden temple,” Xander said with a smile, “but does anyone have a single clue where we might find it?”

“Where do the legends say it is?” Thompson asked, turning to Yasyamon and Leomon.

“No one knows where it is,” Yasyamon admitted, “it’s a secret that has been lost to time. But the legends say it is in this forest.”

“So no one has actually seen this temple, that’s just great,” Xander groaned throwing up his arms in defeat.

“I’ve seen it,” a quiet voice was heard to say, they all turned to see Dyrasmon nervously approaching the meeting.

“Don’t be shy,” Leomon assured the fairy.

“I’ve seen the Temple,” she continued, now with a far more confident tone, “it isn’t far from where the other Dyrasmon were. We all gathered together near the Temple and formed fairy circles but when the Tulismon came we agreed to keep it a secret.”

“You were in the temple,” a wide eyed Leomon asked, “you saw the holy relics?”

“No, we never went in the Temple. It was considered a sacred place. It was surrounded by a strange energy and on some nights an old hermit could be seen, her campfire was said to attract other fairies and then she was said to gobble them up… it was a story to frighten the young. But I swear to you I saw the Temple and I can take you there.”

“We have a plan then,” Thompson said with a determined grin.

“We have some preparations to make before nightfall,” Leomon stood with a roar, “we leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Yasyamon and yourself can’t abandon the camp can you?” Dyrasmon reminded.

“I will stay here,” Yasyamon agreed, “Leomon knows this forest as well as I and knows the legend as well.”

“It’s settled,” Xander said wiping his brow as though the whole thing had left him exhausted, “time for an afternoon nap.”

“Uh-uh mister, you’re working just like the rest of us,” Solara laughed, dragging Xander by the ear.

“Ow, ow, geez what are you my Mother?”

“Start gathering some food.” Solara barked.

“I wouldn’t know what to eat out there,” he griped.

“So take one of the Digimon with you!”

Solara released him and Xander began trudging off. He mumbled under his breath as he did, stopping half-way through camp to have some left-over food from breakfast. He looked around the prospective Digimon who he could take as escorts. He didn’t know most of them. He didn’t even know most of their names. He found it odd that intelligent creatures like them didn’t all have proper names. Sure some of them had nicknames, he’d heard several of them call Leomon the “Liberator” and several other courageous monikers they’d attached to the fierce lion. Xander scanned the group of Digimon soon coming across a familiar four-legged friend. He waddled over to the toad-like Bogmon and took a seat nearby. It didn’t take long for the two to hit it off, sharing memories of the daring escape plan from the camp. Bogmon, also, claimed to have fairly good knowledge of the edible vegetation growing nearby the camp and offered to help Xander out before Xander had even inquired about it. The two were outside the camp in a flash picking a red-purple berry that Bogmon swore was safe and delicious. Xander popped one into his mouth and his tongue had a better idea.

“EWW…” Xander cried, rubbing his tongue on his shirt, “you sure these are safe?”

“Yeah, of course, all Digimon in the forest eat em. Maybe they just aren’t made for a Humon.”

“I suppose if I was hungry enough,” Xander theorized, taking a few more handfuls and putting them in the basket.

Meanwhile the others had rallied together everyone else who would be going. Aside from the six humans, Haomon, Patamon, Dyrasmon, Leomon and Bogmon were coming. Jonathan was to help Dyrasmon make a map of where to find the Temple. Haomon, Vera, Anselm and Patamon had been given the task of going to a nearby farm just on the edge of the woods that was owned by Leomon’s friend Babamon. They set out in mid-afternoon with a wagon and several baskets. Patamon sat on the wagon as Haomon and Anselm carried it.

“This is tiring, you want to take a turn Vera?” Anselm asked pausing for a moment.

“I suppose,” Vera agreed with a sigh, picking up one of the handles.

“Why doesn’t Patamon take a turn?” Haomon asked, turning around to offer a stuck out tongue at his fellow Digimon.

“Mush!” Patamon yelled pretending to whip a tiny whip but he saw Anselm wince at the sight, “Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s okay,” Anselm said, patting Patamon on the head.

“So,” Vera said after a long silence, “Haomon, I heard you were pretty important to the fight at the Tulismon camp.”

“Yeah, I took down two of the brutes myself,” Haomon boasted.

“Ahem!” Patamon coughed at the incorrect statement.

“Okay, okay, it was a collaborative effort,” Haomon admitted, this time Patamon was the one to stick his tongue out.

“At least you were brave enough to fight. I was scared the whole time I was in that camp,” Vera admitted, “I just kind of blocked it out, it’s all a blur. In those last minutes I remember barely being able to hold the shovel. I was so scared… if it wasn’t for John there I don’t think I would have been able to take a single step toward those hideous bandits.”

“At least you fought,” Haomon said, “you didn’t run.”

“I had nowhere to run,” Vera said sadly, “I’m not brave like Leomon or you. Even if I work up the courage, I don’t have the skill.”

“Well, I’ve been fighting my entire life,” Haomon boasted, dropping the wagon handle as they had reached the crop, the last harvest stretching out before them, “I suppose I could teach you a few things while we’re out on the road.”

“That’d be great,” Vera replied with a bright smile.

“Then next time you see one of those Tulismon you can give him a good bop on the nose!”

A few hours later everyone was back in camp, their missions an apparent success. There was much talk. Dyrasmon divulged the story of the strange crone who appeared beneath the full moons to devour the fairies who dared stray too close. They went over the map, packed up the supplies hoping they would last. More than half of the crop that Vera, Anselm, Patamon and Haomon had collected would remain behind to feed those who stayed at the camp. The rest of the food would be for the journey, though Xander had more berries on his face and in his belly then in his basket, deciding sometime before dinner that they weren’t so bad and that he needed a snack.

Thompson stared out into the darkened forest as the waning light of the sun shone through the tree tops. Tomorrow the real adventure began, the butterflies in his stomach were excited and a strange energy filled the air. He felt drawn out into those shadowy woods filled with mystery and ancient legends of a forgotten past to a foreign world. The whole thing was new, truly alien and yet that fact made it all the more inviting. He had no idea how long the quest would take, judging by Dyrasmon’s map at least a few days hike to get to the Temple. Along the way he hoped to soak in all he could of this world.

The rest of the group felt much the same, their collective xenophobia worn off until almost non-existent. And so sleep came soon, with dreams of the quest to come.

[cleansinglight]

Chapter Six: Relics

The sun rose over the forest the following morning. The autumn air blew between the trees chilling the expedition as it set out from the camp into the depths of the forest. Dyrasmon led the way with John and the map not far behind. The beginning of the journey was the easy part and everyone was in fine spirits, aside from Xander, who yawned and tried to rest every chance he got. Thompson noted that despite the onset of fall only a handful of trees were shedding their foliage but despite his best efforts he couldn’t tell the species apart.

The troop was walking along a well known trail according to Leomon, one that he and his group of freedom fighters used often. The Tulismon didn’t know of the path, the great lion assured them but still many in the group were on edge. Haomon in particular seemed continuously jumpy, in no small part thanks to the charge of electricity in the feline’s fur. Haomon’s keen cat eyes studied every shadow and his ears perked at the snap of every twig. Some saw this as on-edge paranoia, but this was how Haomon liked it, there was always an element of unpredictability to life in the Digital World and Haomon’s senses were sharpened to perfection so that he could expect the unexpected. Something had him more calm than usual, he had company. Vera walked beside him every so often reaching her hand over to pet his fur, an action that often got her shocked by static electricity. Haomon didn’t mind the physical affection though normally being petted was a sign of being subjugated or belittled with Vera there was no condescension, just a friendly ruffle of the fur.

The hike lagged on into early afternoon when Xander’s constant moaning nearly got them attacked by a swarm of Flymon. Xander had shut up after that, the benefits of complaining were not at all worth a six inch bee stinger to the face. Giant bees made Thompson scratch his head. Back on Earth it was a matter of contention with scientists about how bees managed to fly, he wondered if they’d flat out faint at the sight of one of the five foot tall Flymon buzzing about the Digital World.

The group stopped by a clear stream in mid-afternoon enjoying a hearty meal by the babbling brook and conserving the water in their supplies by drinking from the stream. Leomon assured them it was safe.

“Water here tastes the same as on Earth,” Xander noted, splashing about and doing a victory dance.
“I’m not sure I want to drink it now that he’s been in there,” Solara joked.

“This place, Earth, what is it like?” Dyrasmon asked.

“Well,” John started to explain, “it’s not like here in the Digital World. Most people live in cities; there aren’t many forests left, least not ones this big.”

“Oh, why not? Did some disaster destroy the trees? A disease of the root perhaps.”

“No,” John replied suddenly somber, “no we humans did it, we used the trees up.”

“You mean you did not wait for them to grow old and fall or get struck by lightning?” Dyrasmon asked, astounded and appalled, “You actually… cut them down.”

“I didn’t,” John tried to explain, “my kind did. There are billions of humans.”

“Then I imagine they cut down a great many trees!” Dyrasmon shouted in outrage flying off into the woods. John started to walk after her but was stayed by Leomon’s furry paw.

“Let her go. Dyrasmon has led a sheltered life in these woods. Her kind are in tune with the nature of the Digital World. We have had deforestation here in the Digital World before that is why we no longer cut down the trees. This forest is old. It was the only one on the island to survive without being touched.”

“Dyrasmon doesn’t know about that either,” John reasoned, “poor girl.”

“Humon nature sounds similar to Digimon nature,” Leomon nodded, “and they call us the intelligent beings. Come now, everyone finish eating and get ready, we have more ground to cover today before nightfall.”

John packed up his bag and moved down the trail ahead of the others, hoping to find Dyrasmon. There she was flittering between flowers humming a happy tune but John could tell just by her posture as she flew that her mind was on what he’d said. He’d never in a million years thought he’d upset a fairy. He approached her quietly but he could tell she knew he was there even before he’d started toward her.

“I’m sorry,” John said.

“No need to be,” Dyrasmon sighed, “I have not set foot or wing beyond this forest… I cannot imagine city life, crowded and trapped, and I cannot imagine a world without these beautiful trees.”

“They are beautiful,” John said, marveling up at them.

“Yes, you are-” Dyrasmon slipped, “THEY! Hehe, they are. Yes they are beautiful.”

“You’re blushing, I didn’t know Digimon could blush,” John smiled.

“Please, do not poke fun at me.”

“I’m not,” John chuckled, “I’m just saying. Come on, let’s get back to the others before they get worried.”

The troop packed up and continued their westward trek deep into the Dark Forest. The food in their stomachs helped alleviate the ache of their feet, though many times Leomon and the other Digimon were so far ahead of the six they had to stop and sit for a few minutes to let them catch up. Patamon was having trouble keeping up too. His wings weren’t designed to long distances and he spent much of the hike on Anselm’s shoulder or in Anselm’s arms. Anselm didn’t mind, the little guy only weighed maybe ten pounds, less than the pack of personal supplies on Anselm’s back. Patamon had to resist the urge not to eat the food out of the pack when Anselm wasn’t looking and Anselm made a game out of trying to catch him sneaking a snack.

The sun was soon low in the sky but they’d managed to put a good four miles between them and the stream. They took up refuge amongst the trees setting up a makeshift camp in a matter of a few minutes. Leomon rolled out the Sheepmon wool bedrolls and Bogmon and Xander went out in search of loose branches, promising Dyrasmon not to break any off any living trees if they could help it. Thompson noticed the banter Bogmon and Xander often exchanged and noticed that Anselm and Patamon too seemed almost inseparable.

“Solara,” he said to her gesturing toward Xander and Bogmon as they came back to camp carrying some more firewood, “have you noticed?”

“Yeah, he’s found himself a little friend, one who smells about as bad as him,” she chuckled, half hoping he’d hear her playful jab.

“Not just him. Anselm and Patamon… John and Dyrasmon.”

“Vera and Haomon too,” Solara nodded, “so what’s your point?”

“Not sure really,” Thompson admitted, “but if they become too friendly we might have some strange new friends coming home with us.”

“If we ever go home,” Solara reminded him, “I don’t know about you but this place doesn’t seem half bad.”

“Yeah,” Thompson said, his thoughts distant.

“Well, goodnight,” Solara said lying on her wool bed with a yawn, “don’t think yourself into insomnia.”

Thompson sat up for an hour after everyone had gone to bed, listening to the wind in the trees and the sounds of hoops and hollers in the distance. Were all these sounds those of Digimon? All Digimon seemed sentient, what use would they have for those sorts of vocalizations? Questions swirled around in his mind as he rest his head, desperately racing to catch sleep. He knew they had more work to do. The Temple still lay ahead of them and part of him hoped it would hold the answers to this strange new world and everything that had transpired.

The next day they were off before the sun was even up. The two moons of the Digital World still hung in the sky even after an hour of heavy hiking. They were off the trail now, making their own way through the forest with Dyrasmon as a guide. She knew each tree by heart and though to most eyes they would have all looked alike she could tell them apart. The group made good time, crossing five miles before lunch and totaling ten by supper. Dyrasmon grew more excited, and more reverent of the forest, as they grew deeper. Even Xander kept his complaints quiet, a reverence overcoming all of them as they drew close. As evening came they entered a part of the forest so dense that the waning light of the sun could not pierce the canopy of the trees. Dyrasmon drew them all to a stop, pointing to a distant stone structure built into the solid rock face built into a natural rock cave.

“Here it is,” Dyrasmon whispered, “I dare not get too close.”

“Why is that dear?” a strange voice answered in the dark. All torches pointed toward the source of the voice to see a strange wrinkled woman with lavender skin. She looked almost human but something about her seemed very very off.

“Who are you?” Leomon asked, not looking to fight an old Digimon.

“Delphimon’s the name my heroic friend,” the old hag cackled, “You have come for the Temple. Your hearts… yes they all seem pure enough,” she assessed with a wave of her palm in front of their group. The entire group started forward toward the cave, “Know this travelers, the Temple only opens for those Called by Destiny… no Digimon may enter.”

“No Digimon, preposterous!” Leomon proclaimed, “What could that mean?”

“Duh dumb-dumbs,” Patamon laughed, “she means the humans.”

The six who could not call themselves Digimon exchanged glances as they approached the massive vault-like door of stone. With tentative steps they stepped forward. A wind swept over them, carrying with it a calm energy that brought bravery to their steps. They faced the door, each pressing a palm to it as if directed by some unseen force. A bright flash emanated from a crystalline sphere that was embedded in the center of the door but rather than backpedal the six stood firm as the door slid into an opening in the floor. The way was clear and Leomon bravely stepped forward, only to feel a painful smack as he walked directly into the door.

“How, it wasn’t there a second ago,” Leomon grumbled rubbing his nose, though his pride was more damaged than he was.

“Best to let those Called by Destiny handle this,” Xander assured him.

Truth be told Xander wasn’t quite sure about the whole thing but something in him told him it would be okay. He had to admit their arrival in the Digital World did seem a bit like destiny. The six of them stepped forward into the Temple and breathed a collective sigh of relief when they realized they were mentally and physically unharmed as they stood on the other side. They nearly fell forward as the door behind them slammed shut closing them into the darkness. There was light within the chamber though, emanating from a set of bright spheres, similar to the one on the door that lined the floor along the way. The lights flickered to life from a dull dim to a blinding blue-white.

Their eyes explored the rest of the chamber as spheres on the cavernous ceiling began to glow. It was a massive Temple. There were six pools of crystal water built into the cavern floor in front of them and etchings of intricate scenes were made into the stone beneath them. They reminded Thompson of those underground in the city, before they’d found the staircase. The six of them walked into the middle of the room soon realizing they were at the center of a massive shape.

“Hexagram,” Solara and Thompson said at seemingly the same time.

“I think each of us should stand at one corner,” Thompson theorized.

“How do we know that won’t activate a bobby-trap and kill us?” Xander asked, the sheer size of the chamber squashing any optimism he’d had.

“Look, we came in here to get relics right?” John argued, “Do you see any relics?”

“No,” Xander admitted, “but how is standing at each point of this hexa-thingy supposed to make the relics appear.”

“Damn it Xander,” Solara complained, pointing out that all of them were in position but him, “it’s just a hunch.”

Xander admitted defeat standing at his corner on the edge of the reflecting pool. He stared into the dark water, wondering how long it’d been underground and what sort of strange rituals it might have been used for. He had a feeling he was about to find out as the floor began to rumble and a circular carving beneath his feet was pushed in. He noticed the others had been pushed in as well and the whole cavern shook with a strange resonance. A slot had opened in the center of the hexagram and a strange circular altar was lifted from the floor before them. It too had a hexagram carved into it and each point of the star seemed to have a strange metallic object in it. The six of them approached.

“It’s like, an MP3 player or something,” Xander said picking up one of the devices, “one from a really long time ago.”

“What would an MP3 player be doing here?” John asked.

“Well,” Xander said trying to sound smart, “it is the DIGITAL World.”

“I don’t think it’s an MP3 player,” Thompson said picking up one of the devices, “but it does have a screen.”

“It’s a piece of technology of some kind,” Vera agreed, holding one of them.

“It’s a relic,” Anselm said examining one of them, feeling that strange energy return to the air.

“There are only five,” Thompson realized, seeing that Solara’s point of the star didn’t have one.

“This one might be missing,” Solara theorized, “grave robbers often raid temples.”

The ground began to rumble and the lit spheres flickered on and off erratically. The table slid back into the floor as the quake continued to shake the cavern. None of them liked the look of the cavern ceiling above as several small rocks came tumbling down. It was only a matter of time before the whole place would end up on their heads and soon all six pairs of feet moved toward the exit. They all stepped back out into the night, only Solara looked back, though she scarcely knew why. Outside night had fully fallen and Leomon and the others had camp already set up and a fire roaring.

“You found them?” Leomon asked, unable to gage the emotion on their faces.

“We think so,” Thompson answered, handing off his device hoping Leomon could provide some answers.

“What… what is this?” Leomon asked, “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind. It seems, metallic.”

“They are metallic,” Thompson confirmed.

“They?” Leomon echoed. The five who had recovered the devices showed them now. Leomon handed the device back to Thompson, noting that the screen lit up brightly when he did, “strange, it seemed to react to you. You were the only ones who could enter and now the relics seem only to react to your touch.”

“I’m not sure we have enough information to say for sure,” Thompson cautioned, “we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“Hand me one of the others,” Leomon said. Anselm handed him the relic and nothing happened, “now I will hand it back.”

Once again the device lit up as bright as could be, illuminating the forest all around far beyond the reach of the campfire.

“This means something,” Leomon said, “this is important. These relics were meant to be in the hands of Humons, they have a strange power.”

“They light up and are pretty and all,” Xander admitted, “but what’s the big deal.”

“The legends, they mentioned things like this,” Leomon rambled excitedly, “Strange travelers wielding ancient magic… Sorcerymon will know what this means.”

“Sorcerymon? This doesn’t mean more walking does it?” Xander moaned.

“He lives atop Fortes Mountain, if it were not for the trees we would see its peak from here.”

“So that’s a definite yes on the more walking then,” Xander nodded, “tell you what, how about you guys go and I’ll stay here.”

“You wouldn’t last ten minutes in these woods,” Dyrasmon smirked.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Solara agreed.

“Ditto,” John nodded to his fairy friend.

“Fine, we’ll go see this Sorcerymon,” Xander groaned conceding defeat.

Thompson sat and listened as they made their plans to travel up to the summit village of Fortes Mountain to seek the guidance of Sorcerymon. Thompson was amazed that despite Xander’s copious complaints he hadn’t once mentioned a desire to head home. This Digital World had grown on them in the short span they’d spent there. It’d been just under a week since their arrival and already they’d made new friends and come to terms with this bizarre new world. He was impressed that none of them seemed all that homesick. For Thompson it was easy, being a bit of an introvert by nature he had a powerful ability for escapism and this Digital World was a perfect escape from the rat race of teenage life. His hellish family life was even less inviting than the politics of public school. He turned his mind from home and back to their present situation. The finding of these relics truly did deepen the mystery of their arrival in this strange new place and the answers, he hoped, awaited them at the top of Fortes Mountain. As he drifted to sleep on a soft woolen bedroll he hoped that the Digital World would be his home for many nights to come.

[cleansinglight]

Chapter Seven: Out of the Woods?

The team awoke early the next morning, everyone Digimon and human alike worked over time to ready for their journey back to Leomon’s camp. Leomon lamented that they didn’t have the supplies they needed to hike straight on toward Fortes Mountain. The great lion knew that back at camp they had stores of food, leftovers from the feast and the remainder of Babamon’s crop as well as the natural growing berries that were only indigenous to that side of the forest. After gathering all their things the expedition set off in the direction of the Liberator’s camp.

Despite stomachs empty of breakfast everyone was in a fine mood, the morning air was crisp as it whistled through the trees and rustled the tightly packed branches. It was chilly here in the Dark Forest because the sun only penetrated so far through the trees. Much like the depths of the ocean the forest was shielded from the light, though the canopies did catch some of the heat and radiate it downward it was still colder than being out in the open. Still no one complained as the trek began in earnest.

Due to their good mood and successful mission they often stopped, despite Leomon’s desire to see them reach Sorcerymon quickly he couldn’t deny them some recreation. The courageous cat knew now that they were not of the Digital World and that they were in a strange place, so he allowed them to stop and rest often. Xander was always the one to instigate the breaks but no one seemed to mind. Anselm and Patamon played a game of tag while Haomon attempted to teach Vera the basics of a good fight.

“Quick and fast,” Haomon purred, “that’s how I like to fight. I jab quick and then back away. Don’t be afraid to dodge and let them get all tired out.”

“You have an awful lot more energy and speed than I do though,” Vera reminded.

“Okay,” the cat meowed disappointed in her attitude, “maybe that style of fighting isn’t for you… I don’t suppose you humans have any special attacks.”

“None that I know of,” she said sounding genuinely sorry about that fact.

“Though I’m guessing Xander could whine an enemy to death,” John chimed in, trying to block out the distant complaints of Xander, who was bringing up the rear of the group.

“Very funny rich kid, I heard that!” Xander called out, “It just so happens I have a rare foot condition that doesn’t allow me to walk long distances!”

“I’d say he has a very rare mental condition,” Solara joked quietly and everyone laughed.

“What’s so funny up there? OW! Damn rocks are getting in my shoes.”

“Look on the Brightside,” Bogmon croaked with a smile, “at least you have shoes… and only one set of feet to step on rocks with.”

“Dyrasmon,” John called, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“What?” The fairy asked fluttering beside him.

“Why are you coming with us? From what I’ve heard you have a great big fairy tribe back there beyond the Temple. Why not go back to them?”

“I never really thought of going back.”

“Why did you leave at all?” John asked.

“I felt too sheltered, I felt trapped. I needed an adventure, little did I know my trip out into the world would end up getting me kidnapped by those bandits. But I’m here now, thanks to Leomon and his Liberators. I like this adventure now, I like you and your friends and Leomon and everyone.”

“Sort of a family away from family,” John agreed looking around at the others and offering Dyrasmon a warm smile.

John liked that idea. Back home he was part of a rich and privileged family but it was a lonely life. Most of the time his parents were out attending parties or on business trips or lavish vacations. Even when he was with them it was always in the lap of luxury and safety. There was no risk and adventure to that life. That was why for a while he’d been a bully and a rebel bouncing from private school to private school until at last they dumped him into the public school system. It wasn’t the worst life possible but he’d grown tired of it, tired enough to follow a strange feeling toward an underground tunnel. That was only half of the reason he’d found his way to the Digital World because Vera was the other half. He held her hand now as they walked together, her pretty sage green eyes stood out amidst the dark green forest. She was the only positive part of his move from private school to public. If he hadn’t met her he knew he would have traveled further down the slippery slope and right into prison. In many ways she’d saved him and now she’d led him into the arms of adventure in a strange new world.

The strange group made their way further into the forest until the sun was low in the sky and then began making camp. Food was the primary concern as most got out their packs to savor what was left of their food supply. They also managed to find some wildflowers that were edible near the camp and added a few to the meal to help alleviate pressure on the other supplies.

As Solara laid her head on the sheepmon bedroll she’d been carrying since they left camp she looked at the others. Each of them had their Digimon close by, each of them except for Thompson. She began to wonder about her quiet friend and about how he had found the tunnel before any of them. In many ways this was Thompson’s adventure. Although he was soft-spoken and somewhat introverted he had essentially led them here or at least that’s what her heart told her. Her fiery eyes caught the light of the campfire as they opened and shut, heavy with sleep. She put all the questions in her mind at bay and dreamt of the rain.

The next day everyone awoke with a start to the pouring rain and got moving as quick as they could. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been though, the heavy canopies caught some of the water making it more like a drizzle at the forest floor. Still by early afternoon everyone was soaked and chilled to the bone, even some of the Digimon with fur were cold. Thompson offered Solara his jacket and Vera was wearing John’s hoodie. The whole day was like this, the rain descended, feeding the trees and bringing the whole forest new life. By the time the group came to the stream they’d passed on the way to the Temple the little creek had become a raging rapid. They made camp there for the night hoping the water level would be down the next day.

The morning sun came strong through the happy trees, full from their watery feast. The stream had become a little smaller now, but it would still be treacherous to cross without finding a bridge. The group set out for a crossing Leomon claimed was South of there. It was quite out of their way though none wanted to face the still raging waters beside them. Carefully they made their way toward the bridge. They reached it just before noon and by mid-afternoon neared their destination. The sight as they came toward the camp made each heart sink as though drowning in the torrential waters of the river. The camp was smoldering, some of the wooden walls torn down, tents tossed about and tattered and all around the footprints of fleeing Digimon and bootprints of the bandits.

“It can’t be,” Leomon growled rushing forward, “What, what happened?”

“Looks like Tulismon did this,” Haomon answered, though everyone already understood that fact.

They entered the camp, their once hopeful hearts crushed instantly under the weight of sadness as they came upon the body of a Gizamon, fallen at the spear tip of a Tulismon. Leomon’s tear-filled eyes caught sight of Yasyamon lying in the mud twenty yards away, his brave lion heart was happy to see his friend’s chest moving. Yasyamon was still alive. Leomon dashed over to his friend to survey what damage the bandits had done. Luckily he found no serious wounds, several whiplashes and sword slashes but none that would prove fatal, still Yasyamon seemed belabored to find breath.

“My friend,” Leomon grunted wiping the tears from his eyes, “what has happened to our home?”

“They, the Tulismon, they hit us in the rain,” Yasyamon struggled to say, “I told the others to run, most of them got away, some stayed to fight… Gizamon, Gizamon was killed in the battle.”

“I can’t believe they would come all the way back here to get their slaves,” John said with fists clenched in anger.

“They weren’t after slaves,” Yasyamon corrected, sitting up with the help of Leomon, “They were after you.”

“Us?” Vera gulped, “What do you mean?”
“They said they wanted the humans,” Yasyamon answered as Leomon stood and helped him to his feet, “They know you have something to do with the relics of power.”

“Speaking of which,” Xander said showing off the strange device he’d gotten from the Temple.

“Thank goodness you found the relics,” Yasyamon said.

“We might not have all of them,” Solara announced suddenly, everyone turned toward her, “There were six points to the hexagram in the Temple but only five devices. One might be missing.”

“Five will have to do,” Leomon said as he dressed Yasyamon’s wounds, “We need to get to Sorcerymon, he will know how to unlock their power and how you six tie into all this.”

“I will come with you,” Yasyamon suggested trying to stand on his own only to collapse.

“You need your rest,” Leomon shook his head, “and we must leave soon if we hope to reach Sorcerymon and avoid Podramon’s bandits.”

“I will come with you,” Yasyamon said defiantly and this time Leomon nodded, realizing he had no real way to keep his friend.

“We will need to make good time,” Leomon announced, “And find supplies along the way, live off the wild if we have to. We must make it out of the Dark Forest and into the Fortes Forest before nightfall.”

“Out of one woods and into another,” Thompson said.

The group quickly reassembled their supplies and scavenged what they could, preparing everything in a matter of minutes and setting out with all haste toward the menacing Fortes Mountain. Indeed a few hours later, as they exited the Dark Forest at breakneck speed, the mountain towered over the landscape beckoning them with its icy peak. Only in mid-summer was the peak totally free of snow as the mountain towered over 15,000 feet into the air. Sorcerymon lived near the summit in a small village above the tree line.

Leomon knew they had little time, he moved them quickly even offering to carry several of the humans if they wanted him to. Xander had toyed with the idea. His feet were killing him as they ran across the landscape which had gone from dense forest to expansive plain. This plain area was very close to the farm where they had entered the Digital World and Xander’s aching feet wanted to head east toward that spiral staircase back into a world of ease. He looked beside him to see Bogmon was easily keeping up. The two exchanged a glance and began sprinting into a race. Bogmon was the clear victor; he almost overtook Leomon several times while Xander was left in his amphibious dust.

Xander had to admit he’d taken a liking to the giant toad though part of him still wondered if the whole thing weren’t some elaborately vivid dream. Back home Xander had been a bit of a bully. It all came with being a baseball star and part of the popular crowd but secretly he’d never liked giving out wedgies. Truth be told he barely even liked baseball. Sports was his Dad’s dream not his and while he’d come to enjoy the game he found the pressure a bit much at times. He took every chance he had to be lazy and free even considering dropping off the team. He’d been pondering quitting the team the exact moment he’d felt the call toward the underground chamber. The Call of Destiny.

Night was fast approaching as they took a rest by a large group of bushes and shrubs. The forest was still a ways away. Leomon watched as they gasped for air and sprawled in the grass as though being put through Hell. He studied there faces stopping when he saw Yasyamon’s pained expression. Leomon had to admit his friend was a fighter in more ways then one. Most Digimon, even of Yasyamon’s strength and endurance, wouldn’t have been able to keep up at the pace they were going with those sorts of injuries. He hoped Yasyamon knew what he was doing.

“I used to think you were invincible,” Leomon chuckled, sitting beside his fatigued friend.

“That makes two of us,” Yasyamon groaned. He took the cork from a clay jar he’d filled with water and poured it down his thirsty throat before passing it to Leomon. The great lion refused the offer, “Don’t you think you are pushing them too hard?”

“Yes,” Leomon admitted, “but we have no time to waste. Going easy on them could put them in more danger.”

“Podramon does not know where we are going,” Yasyamon reminded him, corking his water jar and placing it back in his pack.

“No but he knew we would return to the camp,” Leomon theorized, “he’s likely following us.”

“You are correct in that assumption,” an evil voice crowed.

Everyone turned to face the dragon. He had an ugly porcine face, hairy fur covered body, grotesque bat-like wings, hulking arms and claws with razor talons. The worst of his features, however, was the invisible and revolting odor he carried with him. The stench of rot and decay was on his breath and clung to his skin. Each move the dragon, Podramon, made seemed to send a cloud of his stink wafting toward the tired group.

“You’ve come alone,” Leomon said with a glib grin, “Were your Tulismon not up to the task?”

“Or is it just that I left none of them alive?” Yasyamon spat taking a fighting stance.

“Stand aside brother,” Leomon advised his injured friend, “I can handle him.”

The odiferous dragon let out a ghastly roar half-flying half-leaping at Leomon taking the lion down to the grass below. Leomon wrestled to keep his foe’s claws from his face but even restraining them Podramon managed to land several blows using his wings as an extra set of arms. Leomon’s head was batted to and fro by the demonic wings of the smelly beast. The lion’s knee came up, and then his other, he flipped up kicking as he did. Podramon managed to avoid being hit by flying into the air but at least Leomon had freed himself. The courageous lion drew his blade and swung it about in defensive formations, keeping the dragon at bay as Podramon, tried to dive in from above.

“Come now cat, I thought one such as yourself would be better,” the dragon cackled, “Hand over the relics and the strange bunch who found them and I will spare your life!”

“FIST OF THE BEAST KING!”

Leomon launched an ethereal attack from his fist, the screaming energy missed Podramon though. Leomon launched the attack several more times but the cowardly dragon clung to the air dodging here and there to avoid being hit. Leomon knew that he would soon be worn out. He looked back at the others to see them preparing for battle. Patamon launched a boom bubble and Bogmon swatted at Podramon with his long frog-like tongue. None of the attacks hit the dragon.

“Putrid Flame!”

Podramon screeched opening his rotten maw to let forth a fireball of green decaying flame. The attack hit near Leomon, the great lion rolled out of the way in the nick of time narrowly escaping the fireball. Yasyamon attempted to step in now, leaping into the air to meet Podramon with kendo swords flailing. Podramon batted away the swords with his claws and used his feet to send Yasyamon back down to the dirt with a thud. Leomon tried to rush to the aid of his friend but was met a series of swipes from above that sent him into a diving roll to avoid being cut by Podramon’s claws.

“We have to do something,” John whispered.

“What can we do?” Xander asked.

“We can fight,” Haomon answered with a feisty tone.

“But he’s in the air,” Bogmon argued.

“So what?” Anselm asked, “Patamon and Dyrasmon can fly.”

“And we’re ready to fight.”

“Yeah,” Dyrasmon agreed.

“Alright then,” Xander said suddenly behind the plan, “alright first we need to get him down to the ground, then I think we can handle him”

Dyrasmon and Patamon lifted Haomon into the air with them as they flew up to meet the dragon. Podramon was busy toying with Leomon, too busy to notice what was happening until he had a tiny feline atop him scratching at his back. Haomon went to town with arcs of electricity leaping from his paws as he scratched and punched. Dyrasmon was next launching a bright flash of pixie dust to blind the dragon just enough so that he couldn’t see clearly. Patamon was next, turning the tables by toying with Podramon flying just out of the dragon’s reach and leading him toward the ground.

“Now, everyone attack!” Thompson called out.

Leomon launched a few Fist of the Beast King attacks that knocked Podramon for a loop, the dragon was met by Yasyamon’s Double Strike as well as more attacks from Haomon, Patamon, Bogmon and Dyrasmon. Even the six humans got involved, tossing rocks and sticks toward their enemy. Thompson used a large stick like a baseball bat whacking against Podramon‘s leathery hide. The hideous dragon stumbled away from them and took off for the distant horizon with bruised wings that were barely able to fly and caused a rather humorous flight pattern. Leomon marveled as he turned to face the group and saw the determination on their faces.

“Thank you,” Leomon said, “I am amazed how you handled yourselves. You displayed excellent team work to help defeat a foe that was more powerful than any of us alone.”

“He is not defeated,” Yasyamon weakly proclaimed, “he will be back when his pride is healed… and he will be angry.”

“Then we’d better be ready,” Xander proclaimed.

“It felt good fighting as a team,” Bogmon croaked, “I’ve never felt so strong or so confident.”

“You all did well,” Leomon said, “night is upon us. We will have to stay here and take turns keeping watch.”

“I will take the first watch,” Yasyamon replied.

“Are you sure friend? You know you need your rest if your wounds are to heal and today’s fight only makes you-”

“I will be fine,” Yasyamon assured him and Leomon nodded his agreement.

That night as they slept their dreaming minds reflected upon the fight and upon the strength that had felt when they stood together against a common foe. An enemy who, if they had been by themselves, would have struck fear into their hearts and sent them running for their lives. Being united against this common foe made them feel even more like a group then they had before. The road now seemed longer than before. Where once questions of whether they would stay in the Digital World had existed now no doubt remained, there was work to be done here, friends to help. They could not abandon this place to be raided endlessly by the Tulismon or dominated by Podramon. They could not allow him to get the power of the relics at any cost. They knew now journey had only begun. They weren’t out of the woods yet.

[cleansinglight]

Chapter Eight: Called by Destiny

They set out the next day before the sun could even break over the horizon fearing Podramon would be back with reinforcements. Leomon hoped the dragon would spend the next few days licking his wounds giving the group enough time to reach Sorcerymon and learn more about the relics. He was amazed at the resilience the humans showed; it warmed his lion heart to see such bravery and determination. They entered the forest soon after departing and began their ascent up Fortes Mountain. The morning air was crisp but not cold, winter still a ways off and the island far enough south to keep it warm. They stopped to eat mid-morning but just long enough to have a few berries they’d picked along the way. It wouldn’t be long before the night would bring frost and destroy this kind of food in the wild. The sun came through the sparse mountain trees much more than it had it the Dark Forest and it warmed the group as they ate. Their conversations inevitably reflected upon their fight the night before.

“I can’t believe we beat Podramon,” Haomon purred.

“Why not?” Xander asked, “That guy wasn’t so tough.”

“But he is tough,” Leomon revealed.

“Apparently not tough enough,” Patamon replied, everyone nodded their agreement.

“We only won because of the humans,” Dyrasmon said softly.

“What do you mean?” John asked, “We hardly did anything.”

“You came up with the plan,” she started, “and made us feel stronger.”

“How did we make you feel stronger?” John inquired.

“I don’t know,” she admitted blushing, “I just felt stronger knowing you were fighting with us.”

“She’s right,” Haomon admitted, “I felt much stronger knowing I had Vera to protect.”

“Right,” Dyrasmon said, “but its more than just protection… there’s something deeper.”

“We’re friends,” Haomon said nuzzling up to Vera.

“Something is definitely strange,” Leomon joked, “I’ve never seen Haomon act this cutesy.”

“Who says you can’t be cute and still kick ass?” Haomon boasted.

They shared a laugh and soon set out climbing higher into the mountains. It was slow going at times as the path often became treacherous. Cliffs, waterfalls, and jagged rocks often heeded their progress. Leomon tried to hurry them as much as he could thinking that if Yasyamon could keep up in his still injured state everyone else should have an easy time of it. Yasyamon was showing signs of recovery, a night of rest had done wonders for the warrior. Leomon knew his friend was resilient, he’d seen him recover from much worse, but he couldn’t help but worry.

They reached the tree line at night fall setting up camp near a cave making sure that no Digimon were using it as a place of residence. It was sparse up here and the air was thin. The few villages they’d passed had been nearly empty. Leomon explained that the recent bandit raids had pushed most families up higher into the mountains and many were abandoning their homes to hide out above the tree line. The entire island it seems was subject to the Tulismon menace. Several of the houses they passed along the road had even been burned making each and everyone of them feel some level of anger toward the Tulismon and their winged master. Darkness swept over the mountainside as they prepared to sleep in their cave. A last minute supper was prepared as Leomon pulled some vegetables from his pack that he had been saving for an emergency and cooked them over the camp fire.

Thompson took a bite of the yellow corn-like vegetable not sure he would ever get used to eating Digital World vegetables and secretly craving a burger. He looked over the group taking notice of their fatigued faces and began to worry that they were being run ragged. Was day after day of hiking preferable to returning home? One thing was for sure, it was preferable to being back in that Tulismon camp. They did owe Leomon their lives after all, without him they would have ended their days as slaves searching for ancient relics in the dust of the Digital World. Thompson nearly laughed aloud when he realized just how far Podramon’s camp was from the Temple where they’d found the relics. He looked over at Solara, wondering what part she had to play in all this. She had clearly been called here by something just like the rest of them but she had not found one of the relics. Thompson had examined the devices and found them malfunctioning. The most they’d done thus far was light up and when pressing the three buttons each of them had he could get no response.

The next day was a tough climb up the winding treacherous trail that led up Fortes Mountain. The air was thin making the hike even tougher. Luckily the night they had spent in the cave had partially acclimated them but still it was no easy task. Because of the altitude Leomon let them slow considerably feeling his feline heart wracked with guilt about driving them too hard the day before. Still danger was just behind them and Podramon was not one to give up so easily. There was the added danger of the wild of the Digital World. While most Digimon were civilized and some quite friendly Leomon knew that in the wild there were many unsavory characters.

They kept moving until they reached a slope so steep Leomon had to carry a few of the human’s whose feet could not find traction. They drank in the village with their eyes. It was far bigger than they’d imagined, by far the biggest mountain village they’d passed. Tents were everywhere as were Digimon of various kinds milling about. There was a market district were carts of goods were set up, many selling the last crops of the Harvest before winter. Up here in the mountain air though it was winter, a crisp layer of snow covered the mountain-side and while the daytime sun kept it slightly above freezing each of them still shivered as they made their way through the town. Leomon stopped at a local merchant stand attempting to barter for a few coats to keep them warm.

“Isn’t there money here in the Digital World?” Xander asked as they walked away empty handed and shivering from the market district.

“Yes,” Bogmon croaked, “in many parts though money is outlawed.”

“Here on Fortes Mountain bartering is the only currency,” Leomon explained, “they believe money will only bring greed and evil.”

“I’d say that’s pretty accurate,” Solara said with chattering teeth, “No offense John.”
“None taken,” John assured them, “Even if I wanted to disagree I’m too cold. ACHOO!”

Leomon ushered them toward a massive tent at the far end of town where two pointy-hatted guards in strange clothing stood, each held a mace adorned with the sun.

“We are the Wizardmon brothers, no one enters here,” the guards said in unison, crossing their maces over the entry flap to the tent, “save those who are Called by Destiny.”

“I’ve heard that before somewhere,” Xander said, “Step aside you Harry Potter wanna-bes.”

“Do not threaten us!” They shouted waving their wands and lifting Xander clear off the ground and five feet into the air.

“Put the boy down,” Yasyamon growled narrowing his eyes and gesturing toward his Kendo swords. The Wizardmon dropped Xander to the snow below immediately.

“We ARE the ones Called by Destiny,” Solara insisted, “and you will let us in the tent.”

“Very well,” The Wizardmon conceded, “enter and speak with the great Sorcerymon.”

All of them entered the tent. The inside almost seemed bigger than the outside, it was huge. Within there were several smaller tents pitched, rows and rows of wooden shelves and clay pots, beakers of glass containing a thousand different colored liquids and potions. Three separate fires on which three separate cauldrons cooked and at the center a roaring fire with flames of blue, gold and red that danced up toward a massive chimney funneling the air safely out of the tent. Near the fire sat a small desk where an unassuming fellow, whose clothing was much like the Wizardmon outside, sat going through some scrolls.

“Hello?” Solara said waving at the Digimon she assumed was Sorcerymon.

“Oh, yes, about time,” Sorcerymon complained with a look at a pocket watch he pulled from his pocket, “you are late I see. Leomon wasn’t driving you fast enough.”

“Tell that to my feet,” Xander moaned collapsing onto the ground.

“You knew we were coming?” Thompson asked skeptically.

“Not sure I like your tone boy,” Sorcerymon scowled, “perhaps I will pluck out your tongue and put it in my stew. Did I know you were coming, pssh, of course I knew. You are the ones Called by Destiny.”

“We found these,” Xander said hopping to his feet and presenting his relic, “now can we leave? I’d really like to get something to eat.”

“Ah Leomon, you found them,” Sorcerymon said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, actually it was Dyrasmon who told us where to find the Temple,” the lion admitted, “and it was the six humans who-”

“HUMANS!” Sorcerymon shouted suddenly, “Humans… yes you are right they are… they are humans! This is an exciting day in the Digital World!”

“Great, now can we please leave,” Xander bellowed.

“Yes, yes, you must leave at once,” Sorcerymon said to Xander’s surprise.

“What is it?” Leomon asked.

“These are relics that can only be used by humans… they bond a human to a Digimon, well, they help strengthen the bond. Those Called by Destiny must use this Digital Devices to make their Digimon stronger. To make them evolve.”

“Evolution,” Yasyamon gasped, “are you sure? It has been so rare for so long. Many think Digivolution has stopped altogether.”

“No,” Sorcerymon said, “it has merely become a forgotten art. It is reliant upon passion and power, upon spirit and will.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand any of this,” Xander admitted.

“I’m not surprised,” Sorcerymon said with a wink, “Digivolution, my dear human, is the process by which a Digimon grows into a stronger form.”

“Like evolution on Earth,” Thompson theorized, “the slow change of one organism into another.”

“Change yes,” Sorcerymon clarified digging through his scrolls in search of something, “but slow no,” he pulled from the shelf a scroll and unfurled it on the table before them, “this scroll shows how this Digimon, Agumon, when he grew strong enough and his family were in danger, he became Greymon.”

“That is one badass dinosaur,” John admitted looking at the drawings depicting Agumon’s evolutionary ladder.

“So where does all this leave us?” Vera asked, thoroughly confused.

“You must leave soon, no later than tomorrow,” Sorcerymon began, taking out a second scroll, “And travel southwest to the Fortean Coast. There I shall have a boat waiting to carry to across the sea to the Continent Severa. Once there you must find the Celestial Castle. My knowledge on your destiny is too limited, but those who dwell within the Castle shall know what to do.”

“Sounds like another adventure,” Haomon said happily.

“Indeed it is,” Sorcerymon said, “I shall provide you with the supplies you need so do not worry about hungry bellies,” he continued looking at Xander specifically, “or warmth.”

Sorcerymon kept good on his word giving the coats of the finest fur which he assured Dyrasmon had been donated by a few Digimon who shaved regularly. They went out into the market and were allowed to eat as much as they wanted. For hungry bellies and tired feet this feast was a welcome respite. Each of them had begun to think this quest worth more than they’d bargained for. But now, sitting by a local fire with the local Digimon of the village singing songs and drinking an ice cold and strangely inebriating beverage they all felt like they were ready for a long road ahead.
“What is this stuff?” Thompson asked as he tentatively sipped his first cup.

“They call it Aurora,” one of the Digimon villagers responded.

“Are we old enough to be drinking this?” Vera asked.

“I don’t think its alcohol,” John said filling his second cup, “not that I’d know anything about that.”

“Oh well, when on a strange alien world in another dimension,” Xander said raising a toast.

Thompson noticed the little Digimon beside him who’d answered his question. The dinosaur like creature stood on two legs and was about four feet tall but had a crocodilian snout and tail. With skin the color of ice and spiky quills that looked almost like icicles coming out of its back. Here was a creature made ideally for this sort of environment. The strangest thing about it was the odd glances the creature kept giving him as the night went on, even when Thompson would move to the other side of the camp. Eventually even the introverted Thompson F. Amos had to ask him a question, he moved away from the others and, of course, was followed.

“Why exactly have you been following me?” Thompson asked staring up at the Digital World’s dual moons.

“I was afraid to say anything… I’ve heard the rumors,” the dinosaur-like Digimon said, “About how you and your friends aren’t Digimon at all.”

“That’s true,” Thompson admitted turning to him, “What’s your name?”

“Adlimon,” the dinosaur said.

“So what exactly do you want to know?” Thompson asked inviting Adlimon to sit beside him.

“I want to know if I can go with you,” Adlimon admitted suddenly, “I’ve dreamed of adventure for a long time. I’ve dreamed of fighting back against those who seek to do evil. I even thought of joining Leomon’s group a few times.”
“It will be a rough road ahead,” Thompson reminded him, “danger at every turn.”

“Danger is part of being a Digimon,” Adlimon said, “I want to be part of doing something for the greater good.”

Solara watched the others and slowly slipped into the shadows. She made her way toward the massive tent in the distance. The sun had fully disappeared hours ago and it would soon be time to rest. Something in her soul pulled her forward, a driving nagging angry question in her fiery spirit. She raced right past the Wizardmon brothers and into the tent collapsing at the desk where Sorcerymon sat and panting, gasping for breath more from the turmoil of her soul than the fatigue of her body.

“Why?!” She asked, “Why have I been brought here if I have no Digivice or Digimon to bond with?”

“I assure you that you were called like the rest of them,” Sorcerymon answered calmly, he lifted her chin, “do not dismay. You are brave and you are strong. Whether you find a Digimon or not. Whether you find a device or not. You are strong and you shall find destiny. Do not doubt.”

“Thank you,” she said standing and suddenly feeling quite powerful in her own right and also a bit embarrassed, “forgive me.”

“Go and get some rest,” Sorcerymon advised with a warm smile, “morning comes quick.”

Leomon considered the lizard for a few moments before nodding his tentative approval toward Thompson.

“He seems strong enough of spirit and body,” Leomon said with a bit of a yawn.

“One more mouth to feed,” Xander complained stuffing his own face.

“You’ll have plenty of food,” Leomon assured him, “because Yasyamon and I are not coming with.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what?” John asked, “But without you two.”
“You will be fine,” Leomon assured them.

“Why?” Vera asked the great cat.

“Leomon cannot leave this island behind to the ravages of the Tulismon horde,” Yasyamon explained.

“Or Podramon for that matter,” Thompson added.

“Exactly,” Leomon nodded, “we must rebuild the camp and continue our fight. This is the place where our paths must diverge.”

“For now,” Yasyamon added.

They soon slipped into their own tents, after a brief torchlight tutorial on how to set them up properly. Each of them would be carrying a rather hefty pack, unable to rely on Leomon to carry most of the supplies. The feeling of leaving their feline savior behind was not to be an easy one and each of the Destined had their own bout of insomnia that night. The Digital World, they knew, was dangerous. In the less than two weeks they’d spent there their bodies and minds had already been tested quite a bit. The night’s festivities and their meeting with Sorcerymon had instilled quite a bit of confidence in their minds and the teamwork they’d used to send Podramon running for cover added to that confidence all the more. It wouldn’t be easy, the journey ahead, but was any worthwhile adventure ever easy? Those Called by Destiny were now called by the sandman, or as Xander thought to call him, the Sandmon.


Notes: Sorry for the delay but I kinda fell out of the habit of writing this story. I'm currently working on it again so I should have Chapter 9 and 10 done this weekend.

[cleansinglight]

Chapter Nine: Journey to the Fortean Coast Part 1

The mountain air howled as the sun slipped above the horizon and appeared in the Eastern sky. The icy village was awakening as the sun warmed the air just enough to take the bite out of the breeze. Six slumbering humans stirred from their rest and rubbed their tired eyes quickly getting dressed in a set of new clothes Sorcerymon had provided. They were hardly fashionable, just browns and grays of different shades, simple shirts and pants like something out of a period piece. They stepped out of their tents into the chilly autumn air, the altitude meant it was even colder and they all went searching for their fur coats. Each wondered what was driving Sorcerymon’s generosity in funding their expedition?

Thompson stretched and yawned soon finding his way to the market in an attempt to procure some breakfast. He saw Adlimon there, the icy blue dinosaur ambled toward him with a grin and handed him a small silver coin.

“It’s no good here,” Adlimon explained, “but maybe it will come in handy on the road ahead.”

“You keep it,” Thompson replied flipping the coin back to his reptilian friend.

“Where is Leomon?” Vera asked approaching Thompson with the others in tow.

“He’s already gone,” Haomon explained, “in the night they left for another village.”

“Without so much as a goodbye,” Xander mumbled.

“Well then,” Solara said, “let’s get this expedition underway.”

“Uh-uh,” Xander cawed, “I ain’t going anywhere until I’ve had something to eat.”

“We can stop at another village along the way,” Solara insisted, “Sorcerymon gave us plenty of money.”

“I don’t do anything on an empty stomach.” Xander stomped, “Who died and made you queen of the breakfast club?”

“It’s like they’re twelve,” John laughed as Solara and Xander continued to argue.

“I think they have a crush on each other,” Vera postulated.

“But I thought human affection was expressed in kisses,” Dyrasmon said.

“Sometimes it is,” John said, “and sometimes it’s expressed in constant bickering.”

“Humans are weird,” Dyrasmon decided.

“You said it,” Bogmon croaked hopping over to Xander, “come on Xander, let’s just go, adventure awaits.

“Grrr- Okay… fine, I’ll go, but I’m doing it because you want to Bogmon, not because she told me to.”

“Whatever gets us moving,” Solara sighed.

The troop packed up their things and prepared to move out making sure they had plenty of supplies of the road ahead and even coins to pay the ferry across the sea and buy anything they might need. Once they made it off the mountain the money would be accepted in most places in the Digital World where civilization had spread, however there were great expanses of wild land in the Digital World. They set out in the early morning making there way down the treacherous icy mountain paths and back into the forest singing a song as they went. The group moved in pairs, each a human and a Digimon with Solara at the front by herself. She was keeping both eyes wide open. Leomon had warned them of the dangers on Fortes Mountain on their way up. The area was wild with Digimon many of whom were now preparing for hibernation and might be in a less than friendly mood. Further danger was posed by Podramon and the Tulismon who served him. Because of this they took a separate path on their way down, one that Sorcerymon assured them was unknown to the bandits. Even so Solara was on the lookout.

Solara did take time to look back at the rest of the troop. Where once she saw them as Digimon and humans separately she now saw the pairs for what they were. Even Thompson had a Digimon friend now in the lizard Adlimon. Solara felt a wave of emptiness inside when she saw them talking together, laughing, and bonding. For some reason she felt her own purpose was apart from theirs and yet she too had felt the call in the rain, the electricity that had led them to the Digital World, to adventure.

They walked until they were in the forest and a pretty good ways down the mountains western slope before they stopped to eat. Each made sure they only ate the allotted food that was set aside for one meal. The trip would only work if their food lasted them until they reached the coast. After a hearty lunch that lifted their spirits they made great time stopping in a small village more than halfway down the mountain where Sorcerymon had told them to stop. The villagers were primarily Frigimon leaving the six humans a bit taken aback, not sure how to react to a whole town of Frosty. Night was coming on quick and so they set up their tents on the edge of town and built a fire that the Frigimon stayed pretty far away from for fear of melting.

“One step closer to figuring out our destiny,” Anselm said taking a bite of his dinner.

“Not sure I believe in destiny,” John admitted, “kinda ruins it if some things are set in stone.”

“You mean you don’t believe you and I were destined to fall in love?” Vera asked pouting playfully.

“Destined or not I’m glad we did,” John said kissing her.

“Nice save,” Haomon said with a wink as John‘s liplock with Vera continued, “High Five!”

“Where’d you learn to high five?” John asked when his lips had left Vera’s.

“I taught him,” Vera admitted pulling John into a second kiss.

“I think I’m losing my appetite,” Xander joked.

“I’m so glad to be on this adventure,” Adlimon said, “just to be out of that town to have a chance to fight.”

“Slow down,” Thompson told his new friend, “don’t be so eager for violence.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re probably an expert fighter back in your world.”

“Not exactly,” Thompson assured him, “far from it in fact. I usually run from a fight.”

“Not anymore though right?”

“Right.”

“Did you guys hear that?” Xander asked.

“Very funny, this is no time for trying to be spooky,” Solara said with a roll of her eyes.

“No, I mean it, listen.”

The whole group quieted down suddenly the forest had come to life with the sound of screams.

“That sounds like its coming from the village,” Haomon tilting his feline ears.

“Let’s go!” Vera shouted.

The group rushed from their camp on the outskirts of town toward the village, finding it in chaos. Frigimon fled every which way while flames burnt in the distance. Screams split the crisp mountain air as the flames danced across rooftops and trees. Then they saw it, the dragon, a fiery bipedal form stalking through the village throwing crimson flames as it walked. The ground shook beneath them as it stepped into the light of the moon before them. It was horrifying, having no skin they could see, its body formed of purplish-crimson flame that danced in the mountain wind. Its face was covered in some kind of armor, a steel plate covering its head adorned with two horns made of fire.

“DarkLizarmon,” Bogmon gasped, croaking in fear.

“What do you we do?” John asked, though with Vera quaking in fear beside him he tried to keep his own terror out of his tone of voice.

“We can’t possibly fight that thing can we?” Xander asked, his breath visible in the chilly night air.

“We can’t just let it kill those Frigimon,” Dyrasmon lamented, “but I see no way for us to beat such a monster.”

“Nonsense,” Adlimon growled stomping toward the monster with his head held high, “this guy’s a push over.”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Thompson asked catching his reptilian friend by the shoulder.

“To save this village, to be brave,” Adlimon snorted, pulling himself away from Thompson’s grasp.

“Great, he’s gonna get himself killed,” Solara complained.

“Not if I can help it,” Thompson said with his fists clenched, “you guys help get the Frigimon to safety.”

“What are you gonna do?” Solara asked, concern for Thompson flashing in her fiery eyes.

“Stop Adlimon.”

Thompson rushed forward into the town turning down several narrow alley ways until he saw Adlimon. But it wasn’t Adlimon that had his attention now, it was the towering twenty foot tall monster made of fire that stood less than a hundred feet from him and less than thirty from Adlimon. Thompson cried out to his friend but Adlimon didn’t even turn to regard him as the icy-skinned reptilian charged in with claws scratching. At first it didn’t appear that Adlimon’s efforts would even alert the dragon but soon enough DarkLizarmon took notice of his miniature opponent. Adlimon stepped back as though suddenly seeing the error in his ways but it was too late and the dragon reached down to swat him out of the way. Adlimon went flying across the snowy terrain landing face down in the ice forty feet from the monster.

“Adlimon, get up, he’s coming!” Thompson screamed. It was no use though, in just two massive steps the great fiery lizard was upon Adlimon. Adlimon struggled to get to his feet, feeling the heat from the dragon’s fiery skin as it drew near. Thompson was there then, standing next to Adlimon, standing right in the way of the DarkLizardmon’s fiery claws as they bore down on him. This was it, Adlimon knew, he had gone to his death and taken his newest friend with him.

Then there was a flash… a bright streak of light that seemed to be emanating from, Thompson. Adlimon was floating then, wreathed in a blinding light that seemed to be holding DarkLizardmon at bay. He could feel energy all throughout his body and then he began to change. His body was growing, changing, evolving and a voice, a voice that he scarcely recognized, but was his nonetheless, resounding in the dark.

“Adlimon Digivolve to Glacadlimon!”

DarkLizardmon’s claws finally struck then, but instead of striking down two tiny pitiful enemies the dragon was surprised to fine one of his foes was now at least half his size. Glacadlimon took the blow, steam pouring off as DarkLizardmon’s hands were impaled against his icy quills. He was on all fours now, though still his skin was icy blue and had the appearance of crocodile flesh. He was at least twelve feet long and a few feet taller than Thompson who stood in awe of the transformation his friend had made to save their lives.

Thompson leapt out of the way as a second fiery claw crashed down, again impacting against Glacadlimon and causing his icy skin to steam and hiss. This time the attack was met with a powerful bite, one that brought with it a powerful burst of cold.

“ICE FANG!”

The cold nearly killed the flames on DarkLizardmon’s hand but the dragon managed to pull away his infernal digits quickly recovering from the attack. The confidence the dragon had in itself seemed weakened, especially when Glacadlimon let out a deep and powerful roar.

Far from the village on a hilltop the others stood beside those Frigimon they were able to rescue. They watched from the ridge as the village below burnt up sending billows of smoke into the air. Now something more interesting had come to their attention, the dragon was contending with a new threat and though they were pretty far away from the carnage they were still able to make out that one of the combatants looked an awful lot like Adlimon.

“It couldn’t be Adlimon,” Xander declared denying his own eyes.

“It’s not,” Dyrasmon said, “not exactly.”

“You think he’s Digivolved?” Haomon inquired, thinking he’d guessed her reasoning.

“I’d say there’s a pretty good chance,” Dyrasmon replied.

“If that’s a form of evolution it’s a lot faster than back on Earth,” John mused allowed.

“Do you think he’ll be able to handle that big thing?” Vera asked, turning to Haomon her Digimon companion.

“Well, it’s possible,” Haomon admitted, “DarkLizardmon is only a champion level, though a powerful one to be sure.”

“Champion Level?”

“Yes, we Digimon have certain labels… certain categories for our evolution. When we first hatch we are in a Baby form, most Digimon grow out of this, Digivolving to our rookie forms through eating and natural growth. But after that Digivolution is rare, requiring special circumstances. From Rookie we can become Champion Level, or in the same way as Yasyamon we might become an Armor Digimon. There are levels after that even though I am unsure what their names are.”

“We can’t just sit here can we?” Solara asked suddenly, “We can’t just leave the village burn and sit here while our friends are in danger!”

“She’s right,” Vera said, surprising everyone with her sudden courage, “we should go help and at least try to put the fires out.”

“But how can we hope to put that much fire out?” Xander whined.

“We can help,” the Frigimon suddenly chimed in, “we can collect snow and drop it on the flames.”

“Right,” John said with a determined smile, “We’ve got ourselves a plan.”

DarkLizardmon let out a piercing cry as Glacadlimon’s powerful Tundra Breath hit him. A wave of cold threatened to blow the fire that fueled the dragon out in one big puff. Still, the dragon had fought many foes in its life, had slept in its cave and terrorized villages for over half a century. It held on, gritting through the pain and coming in for an attack. Glacadlimon was the next to get hit, a shockwave of fire burst from his enemy knocking him back against a nearby cottage. The walls, already degraded by fire, split, beams and splinters flying as Glacadlimon crashed through the cottage emerging on the other side with lines of blood trickling down his icy skin. With one leap the icy lizard stood before the fire lizard.

With a ghastly cry the dragon stamped its feet, another shockwave rolling off, but this time it was headed for Thompson, not Glacadlimon. Glacadlimon dived to get to Thompson but it was too late. Luckily Thompson had been smart enough to leap and his jump took him over the flames. Still the shockwave took him, hurling him across the snowy landscape until he landed with a painful thud. Barely conscious he struggled to find his feet, his vision blurred but still able to see that Glacadlimon had unleashed another wave of icy breath that had blasted DarkLizardmon back against the rocky mountain wall. Thompson saw something else then, his mind suddenly springing to crystal clarity as an avalanche of snow, knocked loose by DarkLizardmon’s impact against the wall, came careening down on top of the dragon. The beast hissed and screamed as the snow hit his fiery flesh melted into vapor but stinging nonetheless.

As the avalanche came to a close it seemed as though the monster was seething with rage. Then more snow came, this time from all directions. Thompson, now on his feet, watched as his friends, and nearly three dozen Frigimon, began hurling snow at the dragon, keeping it at bay. Glacadlimon took in another deep breath, the icy burst pushing DarkLizardmon hard against the stone once more, weakened and in pain the beast collapsed.

“MERCY!” The dragon cried, in a voice almost too raspy to understand, though all knew it was a cry for a cease fire.

“Why should we show you mercy dragon?” Glacadlimon growled, “When you have killed and tormented the innocent, have burnt their homes to ash!”

“Please, please, I will go. I will return to my hoard of treasure and sleep there forever more. Just do not kill me!”

“I have a better idea,” one of the Frigimon elders said, “give us your treasure dragon, and we shall let you live.”

“My gold… NEVER! I,” the beast stopped short when he saw Glacadlimon suck in another icy breath, “Fine… you shall have all my treasure, to help rebuild your lives.”

“Good,” Glacadlimon howled, “and if ever you terrorize anyone upon this mountain again I will find you and puff out your flames once and for all.”

A cheer went up from around the town as the other Frigimon came out from their hiding places and went to work putting out the flames. Soon the village stopped burning, though the majority of the homes were destroyed only a few were killed in the attack. With the dragon’s treasure at their disposal the Frigimon were sure their village would be rebuilt shortly and would be more prosperous than ever. As a reward for their help the Digi-Destined were given a share of the gold and jewels. Adlimon had returned to his Rookie form almost immediately and stood before Thompson now bruised and tired but with a smile as wide as his lizard lips would allow.

“You did well friend,” Thompson said with a smile.

“I didn’t do it alone,” Adlimon said, “the power to Digivolve, I’m pretty sure that came from you and that device of yours.”

“Just because it was glowing doesn’t mean it was responsible,” Thompson tried, but he could tell that Adlimon knew what he was saying, “It was the device then. Still, next time don’t just rush into a fight like that.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough adventure… at least for a few days,” Adlimon admitted gesturing to his bruises and moving his sore muscles.

The group stayed with the Frigimon the next day making sure that DarkLizardmon lived up to his promises and that the village could continue without their help. And so they set out down the mountain once again setting a pretty fast pace hoping to make up for the time they’d lost. Still, despite the fight and seeing the horrors of that destructive monster, everyone was in good spirits as they made their way down the mountain trails. It didn’t take long for them to reach warmer areas at lower altitudes, but even lower on the mountain the autumn air told of an impending Winter. They would need to reach the coast before first snow.

Notes: This is something I've been neglecting (mainly because I'm not sure how many people are really reading) but I figured I'd post a bit about some of the Digimon I made up again.

Adlimon (Rookie) and Glacadlimon (Champion) - Adlimon's name comes from Adlivun which is the Inuit (Eskimo) underworld. Glacadlimon combines that with Glacier (which comes from the Latin for icy/snowy)

If anyone has questions about any other Digimon I invented for this story let me know, other than that this is probably the last time I'll do this

[cleansinglight]

Chapter Ten: Journey to the Fortean Coast Part II

It’d been two days since they left the Frigimon village. The landscape spread out before their eyes as far as they could see in every direction. Behind them the mountain loomed and before them endless hills and plains, small patches of trees dotting the landscape, wild long grasses covering the area. Every so often as they made their way along they would come across a house, a cottage, sometimes even a small village of Digimon. They would stop often, and though the folk of Fortes Island were wary they were also quite open to travelers. The news of their victory over the DarkLizardmon helped solidify their legend here, Xander in particular retelling the tale as they moved from village to village.

Finally though, half way through the third day, they reached the dense forest marked on Sorcerymon’s map as the Umbra Forest. Still most of them were used to the shadows by now, having spent much of their digital journey in the Dark Forest. Xander even joked about the foreboding names Digimon seemed to give the nicest of places. Still, despite their light-hearted demeanor, there was something oddly eerie about these woods. Even Dyrasmon, usually so at home in nature, felt unease and flew close to Jonathan, who was busy holding Vera close as well. As dusk came darkness quickly came in the forest and there was barely enough time to set up their rudimentary camp. Once the fire was roaring everyone gathered round. The forest, once eerily silent during the day, now was taken over by howls, hoots and hollers that sent chills racing down human and Digimon spines alike.

“Are you sure Sorcerymon’s map told us to come this way?” Xander asked, suddenly thinking the Umbra Forest a fitting name for the place.

“Yes,” Haomon replied though he too watched the shadows carefully, his feeling eyes better turned to the darkness.

“Even if it hadn’t been on the map,” Anselm thought aloud, “we wouldn’t be able to cut around it and make it to the boat on time.”

“You guys aren’t seriously scared of this place are you?” Adlimon asked, “With me around you guys never have to fear.”

“You’re assuming you’ll be able to Digivolve again when the time comes,” Bogmon croaked, “That might not be the case.”

“The fires burning pretty low,” Patamon remarked, his orange wings shivering.

“We better find some more firewood,” John agreed standing, “Who wants to come with me?”

“I will,” Anselm announced.

“Me too,” Vera chimed.

John, Dyrasmon, Vera and Haomon moved away from the others using Haomon’s night vision to guide them toward any scraps of wood they could find. They weren’t even a hundred feet from camp and yet the darkness seemed to swallow them up. Vera found herself afraid ambling back toward the twinkling firelight of camp. John started back carrying a load of firewood thinking Haomon, Dyrasmon and Anselm would be alright by themselves. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps when something came out of the darkness to hit him. He fell to the ground, wood flying everywhere and let out a yelp that alerted the others to danger. In the dim light of the distant fire it was hard to see but John made out several humanoid shapes huddled in the trees around the camp as though about to ambush. Then he saw it, the hulking form that had knocked him for a loop.

Even in the darkness he could see the strange green pigment of its skin, and the ivory white tusks protruding from its horrible maw. It stood over eight feel tall and carried with it a massive club, likely the one that had knocked him aside. Like some sort of troll, or ogre from the depths of man’s nightmares. The foul smell of its breath sent John backpedaling but as soon as he started to move the massive monster bore down on him - only to get by a flying feline tackle. Haomon’s attack barely even fazed the towering ogre, who swatted Haomon aside with his free hand and lifted his club menacingly over John. The blow surely would have killed him had he not been pushed out of the way by a powerful burst of light. A second burst blinded Jonathan to his surroundings but as the flash died out he saw Dyrasmon changing.

“Dyrasmon Digivolve to Echodyrasmon!”

John could barely see her as the flash of blinding light that had come from his Digivice died down. Still he could hear her fight and every so often he saw a burst of light from one of her attacks. She was a magnificent sight, though he saw only glimpses. She’d grown to be taller than the ogre now with long limbs that seemed to be made of bark and yet moved with the ease of normal limbs. Her face was even more lovely and her head was adorned with a wreath and her fairy-wings spread out behind her elegantly.

John turned his attention back to camp where Haomon had now rejoined the others. His friends had been attacked as well by smaller, but no less repugnant, little Digimon. These appeared almost like miniatures of the massive ogre. He heard a sound behind him and spun around to find Dyrasmon and the ogre creature just beside him. Mustering his courage and wanting to help his dear friend he grabbed the sharpest stick he could find and rushed at the back of the Oni jabbing into its flesh and drawing a bit of blood before being swatted away by a powerful arm. Content that he had done his part and bruised from landing twenty feet away John decided to stay out of their way as the two titans faced on. He grabbed his stick, which he found nearby, and headed for the nearest goblin-like little monster smacking and stabbing with all his might.

“This forest is mine Fairy!” Ogremon growled through its gaping mouth, its noxious breath wafting her way.

“This forest is alive you cretin, it is a living entity, and it cannot be owned,” Echodyrasmon replied, her voice booming and filled with malice. She came at Ogremon then hitting him with her tree-like fists, which stung him badly and left splinters in his flesh. Ogremon battered her with his own barrage of blows, and then swung his club hitting her back hard; she fluttered to a stop, her eyes glowing a deep shade of green. She could feel the forest’s energy feeding her, as well as the distant energy of John’s Digivice, seeping into her.

“LEAF TEMPEST!”

A wall of leaves rose up like a tidal wave rushing against Ogremon with a powerful blast of energy. The ogre had braced himself but was unable to cope with the continuous leaf storm that danced around him. Sharp edged leaves cut his skin and the wind dragged him from his feet and sent him rolling along the ground. Echodyrasmon could feel the power of the forest and the anger and the rage in that place toward this creature. Clearly this foul ogre had done terrible things, had stained this place forever with the blood of both tree and Digimon alike… but not anymore. Not ever again. The leaves continued to cut at him, the wind stole his breath away, waves of natural energy rolled over him damaging him to the core. Ogremon gasped in horror as he felt it happening, as he felt his body dying.

“TRUNK SMASH!”

Echodyrasmon, with no mercy in her heart, crushed Ogremon’s skull in one swipe. The ogre’s body twitched and fell and from it emerged swirling bands of energy that lit up the forest. Echodyrasmon turned away, with shame in her heart. She knew what she had done… she had killed Ogremon so completely that his Data, essentially his soul, was emerging. Normally when a Digimon died its soul passed on to be reborn but if its death was violent and sudden enough the soul would remain for a time but eventually vanish forever. It was at this time that some Digimon absorbed the essence of their enemies, gaining new strength. Echodyrasmon felt her body returning to normal, her heart sinking as she saw Ogremon’s soul dissipate into the open air. He was gone, his very being completely obliterated.

“Dyrasmon!” John yelled, “Where are you?”

“Here!”

“You changed back already you-,” John started but he paused when he considered her saddened demeanor, “are you alright? That thing didn’t hurt you did it?”

“No,” Dyrasmon sighed, “I’m afraid it was the other way around.

“Well come on and join the others, “John suggested with a smile, trying to cheer her up, “the Goblimon have retreated.”

The next morning came too quick and the tired tattered group was slow to pack up and get moving. Still, despite their hardships in the forest the night before, they knew that the boat Sorcerymon had readied would not wait forever. Winter was fast on approach for the Fortes Island and though they were sailing south into warmer weather they would need to do so soon or be stuck on Fortes Island until the thaws of early Spring.

They moved steadily and with a purpose and made it out of the Umbra Forest early in the afternoon moving out onto a vast plane of meadows and farmland that the map assured them would take them to the coast. They found a road a little later and after double checking the map decided it would be best to follow that trail for a while. When the sun was low in the sky they stopped at a small village paying a few coins to stay at a local farmhouse inhabited by a Renamon and two Lopmon.

As the night deepened Thompson stepped outside for some fresh air gazing up at the vast array of stars in the Digital sky. He found Solara outside already, her breath hanging in the moonlight that chilly autumn night.

“You couldn’t sleep either eh?” Thompson asked standing beside her.

“Who could with Xander snoring like that?” She asked with a laugh, “Where’s Adlimon, I hardly ever see you without him tagging along.”

“He’s asleep, he deserves a good rest. Seems like this world barely gives us a moments rest. One day everything is fine and the next we’re fighting for our lives against some giant monsters.”

“We don’t do that much of the fighting ourselves,” Solara admitted sadly and Thompson understood what she meant.

“I’m sure you’ll find a Digivice eventually,” Thompson assured her putting a friendly hand on her shoulder, “and a Digimon to fight beside.”

“I’m not sure I need to find a Digimon… there’s something deeper I’m looking for… my destiny.“ She turned to Thompson then with a grin, “This place has offered me a chance at rebirth and I want to make the best of it.”

“Good,” Thompson smiled, “you can start first thing in the morning, for now I think it’s time to rest.”

“Fair enough,” Solara agreed starting for the door with a yawn, “I wonder if the Digimon here know where I can get some ear plugs.”

“He does snore something fierce,” Thompson admitted with a chuckle.

They set out early the next morning making there way along the winding path that the map indicated as the correct road. If the map was indeed accurate it they would likely be arriving at the docks by nightfall. Before the sun had even reached its apex they began to smell the scent of the sea. Apparently here in the Digital World the oceans were just as salty and the smell wafted into their nostrils filling Digimon and Human alike with a sense of adventure. Though Haomon, by nature, was a bit nervous about a long sea voyage, the twinkle in Vera’s sage green eyes relieved his trepidation.

John walked alongside Vera noting the way her eyes shined. Everyone, in fact, seemed to be beaming as they made their way across the island, everyone except for Dyrasmon. The poor fairy flew with head slumped and even Patamon and Anselm’s attempts to cheer her up with their antics had failed. John felt a pang of guilt as he walked over to her, certain that he should not have neglected her sadness for this long.

“What’s the matter Dyrasmon?” John asked startling the fairy from her despondent stare.

“I’d rather not,” she mumbled faintly, “I don’t think a human would understand anyway.”

“I can try, it’s the least I can do. You saved my life,” John offered with a smile but it quickly faded as Dyrasmon’s frown only seemed to grow.

“Ogremon,” she growled, hovering in place she allowed the others to get far away before she continued, “I killed him.”

“Well, it was self-defense,” John said as though the entire thing was a non-issue, “I know it seems like a really bad thing but-”

“No! You don’t know!” She screamed, alerting the others ahead of them, “I didn’t just kill his mind or his body but his very being. The forest was so angry John and I couldn’t control myself I… I… I feel so loathsome.”

She floated to the ground now with tears welling in her eyes. John stopped, his face wearing genuine concern, genuine empathy, for his digital friend. He lifted her chin.

“What you did was to save our lives,” he started softly, looking into her otherworldly eyes, “And now that he is gone he can never, in this life or the next, hurt anyone again.”

“I know that,” Dyrasmon admitted, clearing the tears from her face, “but still, I’ve just never felt rage like that before… or that kind of power. It was like the power from your Digivice, and the power from the forest, overwhelmed my judgment.”

“Come on,” John said lifting her into the air, “let’s catch up with the others. Next time we get into a fight just try to show some restraint but don‘t beat yourself up about it if you can‘t… you still saved all our lives.”

They continued on their way down the road passing farmhouses and villages as they made their way toward the shore. As mid-afternoon arrived the autumn sun was dipping low in the sky and the village Sorcerymon had sent them towards was in sight. Something else consumed their vision though, the march of half a dozen black-robed figures down the road toward them and the black shadow hanging in the sky above them.

“Podramon,” Haomon meowed under his breath, “damn that dragon.”

“How could he find us all the way out here?” Xander moaned, “We’re far from the Dark Forest!”

“Doesn’t really matter how he found us,” Bogmon croaked.

“Right. This is the guy who’s been harassing you guys?” Adlimon asked cracking his reptilian knuckles.

“Yep, that’s him,” Thompson replied.

“He doesn’t look so tough,” Adlimon boasted, “I could take him.”

“Well, it looks like you’ll get to put that idea to the test,” Anselm gulped.

The Tulismon ran in now, charging with abandon towards the group once they were sure they’d been spotted. Thompson though the behavior odd and alerted the others to be on the lookout for a surprise ambush. His fears turned out to be well-founded as the obvious attack was a ruse and four Tulismon crawled from the bushes around the road and moved in. They were ready though and before the four bandits could strike a bright light enveloped Adlimon the beam stretching from Thompson’s relic to transform the icy lizard into Glacadlimon once more. The Tulismon were caught off guard at the sudden appearance of both the bright light and the massive carnivorous beast that came with it but they quickly regrouped and headed in with swords drawn. They began swinging swords at the Humons who had once escaped one of their work camps. It was the Humons that Podramon had wanted dead.

Podramon watched the battle from up above. The smelly creature had witnessed the bright flash and the emergence of Glacadlimon and suddenly possibilities flashed through his mind. The flash had surely come from the relics of power the children had taken from the Temple. A dark smile overtook his face as he watched his Tulismon land their first blows on the icy flesh of their foe.

Glacadlimon felt the sting of the sword cutting into him. His claw came out swatting at the Tulismon. Then came a burst of icy energy from his lips, his Tundra Breath sending the Tulismon back and reeling to keep on their feet as the ice crystals formed on their clothing. The other six Tulismon were upon them then but again the group was ready, a second powerful flash of light devouring Dyrasmon in the power of Digivolution. Though as she made the change to become Echodyrasmon she felt reluctant to let the power take her as soon as she stood in her Champion form she knew that they would need all the help they could get to survive this assault. Her eyes flashed their deep green as she released a storm of leaves upon the six Tulismon who came down the road. The attack hit them back, knocking two from consciousness instantly, the other four made their way around the Leaf Tempest toward the fairy who turned now to face them directly. Dyrasmon was not alone though as John, Vera, Haomon, Bogmon and Xander stood beside her ready to aid her. Haomon and Bogmon managed to distract one of the Tulismon leading the clueless bandit down the road away from Echodyrasmon.

Podramon could see that his bandits would be beaten if he remained separate from the battle, already the Tulismon morale was likely verging on retreat. The fowl dragon swooped down upon them then letting out a powerful Putrid Flame, a green-brown flame sending the Digi-Destined and their Digimon scrambling away. Echodysramon was hit by the flames, though she rolled out of the main blast wave and avoided serious injury. Podramon landed with a thud letting out a horrible screech and turning around to face the humans who’d given him nothing but trouble. They were vulnerable now, without Leomon or Yasyamon to protect them he was sure they would fall before him. One of his talons stretched out trying to scratch at them but they all seemed so spry, so agile. A Boom Bubble struck him, followed by a feline thunder punch. A blast of tar from Bogmon hit the dragon square in the face leaving him momentarily blinded. Podramon thrashed about heaving in a great breath and releasing another Putrid Flame attack. This time Vera was right in the blast radius. Haomon saw the attack and cringed grabbing the monsters head and pulling it back angling the flames to miss Vera ever so slightly. Vera had rolled out of the way in the nick of time, but Haomon was still angry. He felt a rush of power overtake him then, seeing a beam of light appear in the air between him and Vera.

“Haomon Digivolve to Felehaomon.”

Felehaomon stood before them all, arcs of electric dancing through the air. He was on all-fours now looking very much like a majestic lion but one surrounded by an aura of electricity. His mane was made of arcing bolts and all of his fur was standing on end due to the energy he emanated. In fact if any of them could have taken their eyes off of the lion they would have noticed their own hair standing on end. Podramon eyed the feline carefully but if the odiferous dragon felt any fear at the sight he did not show it. The Tulismon had taken this momentary cessation of hostilities to move into more strategic positions in their fight against Glacadlimon and Echodyrasmon. Felehaomon was the first to move, leaping with shimmering white teeth aimed for Podramon’s neck.

“THUNDER BITE!”

The attack missed the dragon’s neck landing instead on his leathery wings. Pain wracked Podramon’s body as the electricity coursed through him powerfully. The Dragon let out a river of rotting fire from his mouth forcing Felehaomon to release his hungry grip on Podramon’s wing. Podramon seemed to test the wing as his fire stopped flowing as if to make sure it would still work he took off flying at Felehaomon with anger in his eyes.

“Septic Wing!”

The great dragon swung his wings in they let out a burst of energy not toward Felehaomon but toward his friends. Felehaomon blocked it as best he could taking the brunt of the blow. Podramon was on him then raking at his skin with those horrific talons. It did little good though as touching the lion directly got Podramon zapped and jolted. The dragon reared its head and let out another burst of green flames, but a fury paw over his mouth stemmed the flow and turned his head aside.

“Time to put an end to this,” Felehaomon growled, his voice resounding like thunder, “Electro Hunter!”

A rush of energy overtook the lion, a ghostly form of himself, formed from pure energy, separated from his body and leapt at the dragon leaving Podramon writhing in agony along the roadside as the ethereal lion jolted him into submission. Seeing their leader in such pain spurred the Tulismon on and soon they fought with extra fervor but the great cat was upon them then. The tide had turned and the bandits left, running into the distance now fearing these new enemies more than the wrath of their master.

“You fools, you have not beaten me!” Podramon crowed finally finding his feet and lifting in breath to ready an attack. He was stopped short by a blast of icy wind, a jolt of electricity, and a powerful blow to the back of the head by what felt like a tree trunk. He stumbled forward his mind filled with blurred rage at what was happening to him, “Those relics are mine! I need them! You do not know the power you possess!”

“I think we’ve just witnessed that power here today,” Vera said standing in awe of Haomon’s new form, “Now fly away dragon, fly away and never come back.”

“Away!” Felehaomon growled, a blue-yellow bolt of electricity shocking the point home and sending Podramon into the air immediately. The dragon flew away and didn’t look back; too ashamed of his failure, too angry, too worried about what his superiors would say when he explained that he failed.

A victory cry went up from everyone, praising Haomon as he returned to his Rookie form and stood before them. Everyone was tired, the fight had left them weak and with quite a few new bruises, cuts and nicks. Still, the boat would be leaving that night and they were determined to make the docks in time to set sail and so none of them complained as they rushed down the road. Already the sun had dipped below the horizon leaving the sky pink and orange but they were determined to make it. Glacadlimon offered to allow riders on his back but the icy chill of his skin and the sharp quills of ice on his back were hardly inviting.

They made it to the village as the last light slipped from the sky and the town’s torches flickered to life. The whole town was talking as they, dirty and bruised, made their way toward the docks. Without a moment to spare they found the Captain, a Digimon by the name of Hookmon, and after tossing him a few coins they boarded their ship.

It was an ordinary vessel, seeming very much like the ships in the days of exploration Earth had once had. With great sails that had been stained by the ocean spray of a hundred such voyages. It was the experience of the crew and the discipline or everyone around them that allowed the vessel to sail from the docks at night. As they left the Fortes Island behind the ones Called by Destiny found themselves reflecting on their journey thus far and on the friends they left behind. Leomon and Yasyamon would be far from them, unable to help them and even more pressing, alone on the island with an angry brooding Podramon. That night they stayed huddled below decks, the cold of the sea breeze too much to stay above. Their quarters were sparsely furnished and the beds were no more than rigid wooden bunks. Still, compared to camping on the cold hard ground, compared to being in constant danger in the wilds of the Digital World, the ship was a haven of comfort.

“I wonder what people are thinking back home,” Vera mused aloud to John, who had agreed to share her room, with Haomon and Dyrasmon of course.

“All this time we’ve been debating whether or not this is real or all a dream,” John said sitting beside her, “and yet back home there are people looking for us. I wonder if it all seems like a dream to them to.”

“Still,” Vera said, looking to Haomon who was sleeping soundly in one of the bunks, “I don’t want to leave yet. There’s a reason we were allowed to come here.”

“Destiny my dear,” John said kissing her goodnight, “Destiny.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in Destiny,” she reminded him but he just shrugged and offered her a disarming smile as he crawled into his bunk.