The Dawn of a New Age: Act 2/Chapter 3

Act 2: The Spreading Darkness
Chapter 3: The Timid, The Brave, And The Blind
As written by RememberMe (Joseph Michael Schultz)

Unfortunately, we'd found what we'd expected to find almost immediately upon entering Goldenrod's train station terminal; we'd found exactly what we'd wanted to avoid. Bodies lay chaotically around; some over top of other bodies, others completely thrown through windows and mortared brickwork. Violence had unfolded here; extreme violence. Every turned corner revealed another slaughter house's worth of mutilated bodies, more than a few of which were entirely dismembered. Literally; blood was spattered over every other ceramic tile and ceiling panel, staining everything with a thin layer or blackening red. It was far and away more disturbing than anything we'd seen back in Saffron, and we'd only been here for a little over a quarter hour. I pressed one hand to my stomach, which was trying its hardest to violently implode and jump completely out of my body; doing my very best to hold down the food I'd just recently eaten. After all, a man needs his strength if he's gonna fight the evil villain's minions, right? It was difficult, trying not to vomit and curl up into the fetal position on the ground, but I had to be strong and persevere. Also, I didn't want to look like a wuss in front of Ed; that would be bad.

“Looks like a battlefield.” rumbled Ed uneasily as we navigated a cramped corridor. The large turtle took up the entire width of the hall.

“Yeah, and I'm thinking we won't be greeted well by the battle's victors.” I added quietly; carefully making sure not to step in a puddle of 'I'm not sure what that is, but I know I don't want to step in it'.

“Unlikely, should you come in peace.” echoed a soft and innocent voice; the volume lower than that of a shout and yet still resonating with a powerful vibration all the same. The voice carried with it some kind of inner power. “Those who wish harm upon others shall be faced with retribution whilst those who tread our halls seeking only passage and asylum shall be spared.”

Like an idiot, I spiraled around to face whoever it was that suddenly stood behind us, as enemies often did, only to find that no one was in fact behind us. Whoops; trying to get the drop on an enemy that doesn't exist. If we were being watched at the time, then my little pirouette must have looked very dumb from our observer's high perch of a perspective. I felt my face heat up in embarrassment as I turned back around and continued walking forward, saying nothing; Ed palming his face in his hand, trying his hardest to ignore my idiocy. The 'facepalm' from a friend; that's when you know you've done something so stupid that words alone cannot do the action proper justice. As we exited the terminal and stepped out into a large intersection, three vague silhouettes came into view from afar, one of which was quite possibly the deliverer of our most recent warning.

As we strolled casually closer, guns drawn in a show of strength and authority, the three vague figures slowly became distinguishable.

“Be you friend or be you foe?” questioned the soft voice of a young Riolu girl; her canine eyes closed as she sat in a meditative stance on the cold concrete ground. Her legs were crossed in a manner that made me shudder slightly; a certain amount of bone bending was required for a position like that and my body would most likely protest quite noticeably. “Friends shall be welcomed with open arms. Foes shall be eliminated; dealt with as quickly as possible.”

The girl was young, VERY young, and looked to be in her preteens if not younger still. Her silky blue and black fur reflected in the strong sunlight, making her look rather intimidating despite her age and size. Her head of azure hair, adorned with twin golden bells, fluttered and jangled in the soft breeze, only adding to her image of utter peace and tranquility; something similar to that of a monk almost at the gates of enlightenment. Her body was fit and spry looking, like a professional acrobat's, and looked capable of at least a few astounding aerial maneuvers. Her clothing, however, looked like it had been stolen from the set of a movie; a documentary movie depicting the suffering of children from third world countries. The shirt had no sleeves and had been sewn back together too many times to properly tell quite where the original seams had been, and her pants had suffered a catastrophic failure just below the knees and trailed off into a tangle of loose threads. She wore two mismatched shoes, one red and the other either green or teal, and I'll be damned if they didn't look exactly like thrown-out child's-sized bowling shoes. To top everything off, a single bandage lay stretched across her petite nose, covering what I assumed to be a scratch or scar of some kind.

For a kid, she looked like she'd seen a serious number of unkind and unfriendly years go flying by.

All the same, I was a little baffled. I cocked my head inquisitively and arched an eyebrow, displaying my confusion quite clearly. Was I really being threatened by a little girl?

“C'mon, kid, I don't think you're really in a position to be threatening anyone.” I smirked; holstering my sidearm. Wouldn't be very civilized of me, shooting an unarmed child, now would it? “Not that we're here to hurt you, but still, you ARE a kid after all.”

“As were you, at one point in time.” replied the girl; her tail sweeping across the ground swiftly. “Please state your point in this argument. What relevance does mere age have in the matters of strength and skill?”

Ed stomped the ground; his face starting to redden with irritation. He stepped forward and growled, “Little girl, I happen to think it makes all the difference.”

Not even deigning him so much as a reply, the kid raised her hands, a pare of tiny padded paws, and pressed them forward in the same fashion that a mime would when pressing up against a sheet of imaginary glass. A faint whirl of wind spiraled around us for a brief instant, as though it were summoned from somewhere else, flitting through the young girl's short mane of adorably bobbed hair and then silently subsiding; the sound of bells jingling for a small time thereafter. My fur stood on end as a few words gently escaped her lips, “Light Screen, repel all evils.”

“What?” asked Ed in a flat tone; stepping back a pace or two out of sheer reflex to the strange sensation of gathering energy.

The girl then put her hands back down into her lap and whispered, “Advance, warriors, if you are able.”

Okay, now I was irritated; being insulted by a munchkin isn't something that I take very well. So, I stepped forward, perhaps to grab her by the shirt collar and force her to sit in the classroom's designated corner with a cone-shaped grade school 'dunce hat' atop her head, but found myself blocked by something else. No, not someONE else; someTHING else. The moment I approached the child, an invisible wall of some kind or another suddenly stood in my way and barred my path. Thoroughly confused, I tapped my fist against the wall in the same way I would a door; feeling the resistance of a hard surface hitting my knuckles. Alarmed, I took a few steps back and silently motioned for Ed to give it a try. Giving me a stern face depicting extreme disinterest and aggravation, Ed took my place and struck the wall with his fist as well. However, Ed, being the Ed that he is, struck the invisible forcefield with something more similar to a professional boxer's punch; an actual sound of impact resonating as he reeled back in shock. Trading a concerned look with me, the large turtle stepped back and allowed me to take the lead again.

I hesitated as we traded yet another look of dumbfoundedness.

“Alright, I'm stumped.” I said in a tone of surrender; pantomiming the waving of a white flag with my right hand. “What's going on?”

The young girl tilted her head as well, but did not open her eyes as she replied, “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” I spat back; a tad bit angry at this point. “What can't I step any closer?”

“Because I am not yet allowing you to.” answered the Riolu firmly; her bushy tail lithely sweeping across the ground again. It was then that I noticed a large ribbon tied in a bow around the tail; the shiny red surface sparkling brightly in the sunlight.

“Say what?” I exclaimed; surprised. “Are you telling me that you're the cause of this wall? You're doing this?”

“Does that answer not satisfy you?” inquired the child whimsically.

I considered that question for a moment and stuttered in reply, “Um, well, I just thought it sounded a bit impossible. Though, to be honest, thinking back on all that's happened to me thus far, I guess nothing is really impossible anymore. The world's already filled to the brim with brain-drained zombies, right? So, what the Hell, why not magical little children too?”

The child made a rolling motion with her paw and caused the invisible wall to ripple as though it were a clear pool of water hit by a single stone.

“So, then you accept that this phenomenon has been wrought by my power?” continued the girl; her ears flitting and scanning their surroundings. She was serious and just a teeny bit frightening. “You will pay respect to those that are owed respect and apologize for your lack of manners?”

I almost gave my answer, but must have lacked the speed to do so, because Ed pushed me aside and glared angrily; a piercing stare that looked strong enough to penetrate steel armor. Needless to say, I shut up.

“Oh, please, do we even have time for this?!” barked Ed fitfully; smacking the strange barrier again with his balled fist. “You're aware that Armageddon's come and gone, and that there's an entire planet full of psychotic murderers, right?! Stopping us right out in the open and obstructing us from going, I'll admit, wherever the Hell it is that we're going; does that really help anyone here in any remote way?!”

“It certainly does.” retorted the Riolu calmly. “For you would certainly die should you decide to charge blindly into that city before enlisting the aid of those that have been awaiting your arrival.”

Huh? Say what? No, really; say what? Someone's been waiting for us?

“The large one, steeping with power and a noble aura; he sent you, did he not?” she questioned pensively; her eyebrows furrowing into something of a glare, though her eyes had still yet to open.

“You mean Kiev?” I asked; a little perplexed.

“Names are irrelevant; you know full and well of who I speak.” replied the girl stoically. “His mere presence is accompanied by a thick energy; a fog of power that surrounds him at all times. It is unmistakable; he simply cannot be confused for someone else.”

She had a point. The giant guy certainly did radiate some kind of power at all times, like the soft thrumming of a warming engine or the ever steady ticking of a metronome.

“Yeah, you mean Kiev.” I answered; scratching my head. Talking to this girl was HARD. She had a very old-world way of thinking and her words came out a little too stilted for my tastes. She reminded me of a nun; stern, strict, and unbendingly rigid in her thought process.

“Your answer?” demanded the child. “We haven't all day, sir.”

Annoyed, Ed interjected and spat, “Fine, fine; kids these days; and to think that you were complaining about our lack of patience. Yeah, we've met Kiev, sure, but he didn't send us here. He didn't really have the chance; we just kind of ended up here out of necessity. Specifically, it was necessary for us to escape.” Ed rubbed at his chin and chewed on his words for a moment and then continued. “From what I understand, Kiev had to make a quick exit and go to the aid of some children, so he never actually told us about any specific destination we'd need to reach.”

The three children; that's right, I'd almost forgotten. Thanks for the mental jump-start, Ed! Now I understood why this girl was asking us about Kiev and if he'd been the one to send us here.

And that's when I took the time to take a closer look at the other two figures that had been all but indistinguishable from a further distance. The first of the two remaining newcomers that I spotted was a young Cubone, probably fairly close in age to the Riolu girl whom was currently in the middle of either annoying us or interrogating us. He lay comfortably sprawled out on a nearby bench; his head cushioned by the pillow he'd made out of his rumpled and folded up jacket. His leathery brown skin sharply contrasted with the mismatched colors of his clothing; all equally as torn, ripped, tattered, and stitched back together as the young girl's. Encircling the prepubescent boy's head was the traditional adornment of the Marowak Clan, a large skull, modified and hollowed out by one of his clan's tribal craftsman into a type of ceremonial mask; its bleached white surface reflecting like finely polished ivory in the bright sunshine. Resting right beside the skull, clutched tightly between the little boy's fingers like a toddler's stuffed animal, was yet another of his forefather's ancestral stereotypes; an enormous femur bone. At least twice the length of one of my arms, this huge club was the time-honored weapon of choice and traditional tool of the ancient nomadic tribes that predated the modern Marowak Clan.

The little drooling runt looked very content as he just slept the sleep of a tired child, tossing and turning every once in a while when the sunlight became too strong for his closed eyes to bare. I'd have been one Hell of a lier if I'd tried to say that I wasn't even a little bit jealous; him being able to nap peacefully in the open while I'd had to wage a small civil war.

“That makes two.” I confirmed.

Ed gave me a perplexed look for a few seconds before coming to an epiphany as well. He then turned to the young canine and placidly said, “I get it now. When Kiev left Saffron City, he came here to assist you. He wanted to ensure that you would survive long enough to meet up with us.”

The child smiled weakly and replied, “Indeed.”

And then the energetic tension left the air; the barrier evaporating and eroding away.

“We weathered a fierce battle in hopes that a hero would arrive and deliver us from this chaos.” stated the girl softly. “Are you, sirs, the heroes that we were so promised?”

I approached the child and joined her on the ground; my butt angrily objecting to sitting on the cold, hard concrete. Despite that objection, the court was still in session; what with me being my body's crowned ruler and not my rebellious butt. I stared deeply into the face of this little girl and saw many of the same things that I'd seen so very many times before; the unmistakable aches and pains of the orphaned and homeless. Aside the lone bandage that covered the bridge of her nose, her body had obviously sustained a great deal many other injuries. Several scratches, cuts, nicks, and bruises dotted her weary limbs; both sets of arms and legs battered with post-battle damage.

“I don't know if I can call myself a hero, but if it's help that you're after, then I will do the most that I can to assist you.” I responded; placing one hand on the youth's shoulder. She shuddered uneasily for a moment then glanced aside, though her eyes still remained closed. A long breath escaped her lungs as she allowed a few burdens to drop off of her ragged shoulders; shoulders too young to ever deserve seeing such pain. “You've got a third with you, right? Where are they? We've gotta go and I'd prefer we go as soon as possible. As nice as this town might have been, once upon a time, I doubt it's very hospitable anymore.”

“Your name?” asked the girl with another tilt of her head; totally ignoring my question.

“Alan.” I answered warmly; using my most fatherly tone. “Alan Thomas Kilbane.”

“And I'm Edward Witherspoon.” added Ed with a grunt; interjecting himself long enough to be introduced. He was trying his hardest to hide the embarrassment on his face, having been the 'mean yelling man' just moments before, but met with his usual amount of success when it came to matters of emotion.

Smiling, she replied, “I see; then I must thank you. From the bottom of my heart and soul, and in the stead of my brothers as well, I thank you Sir Alan Thomas Kilbane and Sir Edward Witherspoon. We will be forever in your debt and I will always remember this noble service you have done for us.”

Wow; now being a detective, I've been thanked for a job well done before, but never quite like that. That was the kind of thanks normally reserved for knights in shinning armor.

“Um, right, and your third?” I said, repeating myself with a stutter; trying to veer the subject away from praising an undeserving simpleton like myself. My self-esteem wasn't dangerously low, but I did harbor a certain amount of resentment towards myself and didn't want to hear any prolonged praising of my name.

“Ah, yes, little Mikey.” stated the blue and black furred cub; lifting a single arm and pointing back towards the occupied bench. “Well, if you've already discerned Roger's location, you've likely found Michael as well.”

Turning my head ever so slightly, I caught a glimpse of yet another little boy; marginally smaller than the other two; his eyes and maroon head of wavy hair peeking just over the edge of the bench that his snoozing friend continued to abuse in the holy name of sleep. A small, almost petite, little moppet of preteen age as well; he ducked down and hid his eyes as soon as he took notice that I was taking notice of him. Not that I haven't seen the 'shy act' before, it's actually fairly common among younger children, but it was still a little heartwarming to see; especially amidst these eerie, macabre surroundings. A scarlet Vulpix with a set of six fluffy tails, he narrowly managed to avert his cobalt eyes every time they came close to meeting with my own. Like his dreaming brother and meditating sister, Mikey's clothing looked as though it had been selected from a dumpster in the back alleyways of the 'bad side of town'. His small vulpine paws were completely bare, neither shoes nor gloves protecting them from the harsh elements. Every once in a while, he would peek back over the bench to see if I was still watching him; immediately ducking back out of view.

“He refuses to come out of hiding, yes?” questioned the Riolu; still maintaining the meditative stance I'd seen her positioned in upon my arrival.

“Yep.” smirked Ed. “Doesn't look like he wants to join us.”

I grinned and said, “You're probably scaring him, ya big son-of-a-bitch.”

“Har har, very funny.” sighed the turtle with a roll of his eyes.

“Very well, then I will fetch him for you.” laughed the girl tiredly; standing up from her long occupied position on the ground. “And before I forget, my name is Maylene; Maylene Kytes Gallant. The one lazing like a sloth is Roger Adrian Abel whilst the one seeking shelter behind him is Michael Zephyr.”

“Well then, Maylene, if you would be so kind?” I mused; bowing courteously to the side and allowing her a straight path towards the bench, the bench's occupant, and the boy seeking sanctuary behind the bench. A trifecta; you don't see that every day.

Maylene approached them slowly, her speed similar to that of a prowling predator. She hovered above the sleeping boy for a moment, gazing down upon him in the way that a mother would at her child, and then promptly shoved the kid off of his beloved wooden bench using both hands. The whippersnapper hit the ground with an audible thud and then snapped up to his feet immediately. With calcium club in hand, he swiveled around in every direction; suddenly alert eyes searching for threats of any and every kind. He spotted Ed and I, just standing there doing less than nothing, decided that we were unimportant, then continued his surveying of the general area. After a minute and a half of this, Maylene grabbed the boy by his shoulder, spun him around, then opened her eyes for the first time and simply proceeded to stare ominously at him.

Her eyes were cloudy and milky-white; the eyes of someone plagued by blindness.

Now I was confused. She saw us coming earlier, didn't she? And she knew that the little fox was hiding behind the bench, right? So, how did she know these things without the helpful assistance of eyesight? Oh, as brain breaking as this perplexing thought was, I didn't really have the time or patience to ask it just yet. After all, I'd just met the child; what kind of man would I be if one of the first things I mentioned to her involved her debilitating handicap?

“Maylene, did you see our attacker?!” exclaimed the boy in confusion; rubbing at his butt as though it had been bruised and still searching every direction for a mysterious someone that wasn't there. “Their assassination attempt failed, but they might still be nearby!”

The girl sighed a sigh that looked strangely familiar, as though she had been forced to do it many times before, and answered, “Worry not, they did not make it very far. I confronted them alone and won.”

“Alone?!” shouted Roger in shock. “That's dangerous! What if they had allies ready and waiting to ambush you?!”

“They didn't.” replied Maylene with yet another sigh. Clearly, she was the brains of their group and he was the boundless youthful energy. “Now, would you follow me? The men that the prophet had foretold us of have finally arrived and I would like to finish the introductions before nightfall.” She then turned towards the child hiding behind the bench. “And that includes you, Mikey. They are not here to hurt you. In fact, it is quite the contrary; they are here to help us, just as the prophet had promised.”

The little vulpine boy stood slowly, though his eyes never left contact with the ground. He fidgeted with his hands and twiddled his tiny claws as he gradually strolled towards us, poking at his paw's protective padding; a nervous little act that only made him look even more adorable. He moved at a pace that I could only describe as 'puttering at the speed of smell' and probably hoped for one of two things to happen: either we'd run out of patience with him and leave or we'd fall asleep from extreme boredom as we waited several hours for him to traverse 40 feet. However, when Mikey finally did arrive, he made it clear that I would never get to see his actual face again and proceeded to literally bury it in behind Maylene's back.

“M-m-my n-name is M-m-mikey.” stuttered the petite fox from behind his protective shield. “P-p-pleased t-to m-meet y-you.”

I've seen people with social disorders that were more outgoing and sociable than this kid.

“The name's Kilbane; Alan Thomas Kilbane.” I said with a courteous smile. “Right back at ya, kid.”

“Edward Witherspoon.” stated Ed with a polite nod.

I found myself smiling as I watched the three children group together and present themselves before Ed and I; thinking back on a child that I myself had once cared for, forced myself to feed jars of baby slop, put to bed, read fairy tales to, and had hoped to one day play catch with in the ideal backyard. I thought of my wife, pleasantly this time, and of all the good times we'd had. Sure, we hadn't always agreed on everything and often argued over nothing at all, but isn't every relationship supposed to have a flaw or two?

“Karen...” I muttered quietly to myself. Her image sharpened in my mind and my voice steadily turned into an inaudible growl, a vengeful hiss seething with the pain of betrayal.

I then found myself sneering as I remembered exactly how my dreams of fatherhood and husbandhood had all come to an overly abrupt end; long licks of flame spiraling around a cramped household like the tightening fingers of a grasping demon; the needle marks sprawling up and down my wife's arms like paved roads; the smell of the accelerates used to start the fire and my wife's credit card marked with their purchases. The last time I tried to support a family, I messed up in a way that I can't properly describe using rational words, so what chance would I have at supporting a group of people that I shared no tangible ties with whatsoever?

And then I heard the telltale distant sounds of a rioting mob.

“More guests.” smirked Maylene defiantly; her head whipping around to face the sprawling city. “Let them come; I will face their numbers alone if I must.”

I snapped out of my depressed stupor and hefted my pistol from its holster. I almost said 'but I'm all out of gum', but chose to go with something more appropriate and overall helpful, “Sounds like we've got company! Everyone, let's pack our things and skip out on the check! I don't want to see the waiting and cooking staff's faces when they figure out I'm all out of scratch!”