Conclusions (6/6)

Death is something that is always thought of as silent. Dead men tell no tales, dead men make no noise; they remain silent as the grave. There are even those who are said to pass peacefully. For Mycaelis and Vagus, death was never silent. They had both killed as they lived in a world where one must kill or be killed themselves. Never once could either sibling recall an occasion where death had been silent.

Death is the screams of agony as flesh is torn from broken bones, the howls of pain when entrails are split upon the ground. The cries for mercy, the shrieks of horror, the gurgling sound of someone drowning in their blood.  Then come the sounds of those that behold death’s work. The screams of terror, the gasps of disbelief, the wailing of loved ones as they grieve for their loss.

As Mycaelis and Vagus sat silent in that hovel in the jungle, they could hear Death outside, and it was far from silent. The screams of those attacking monsters assailed their ears to no end. Most shrieked, others screamed and all growled in one way or another. The sound was truly horrifying and came coupled with the occasional thud as the broken corpses of these monsters were thrown against the thick stone walls of the hovel.

Without warning, the door before them erupted into flames as a stray fireball impacted with it. The dry timber fueled the flames that were quick to spread up to the dry thatched roof. Both siblings knew it wouldn’t take long for it to bring the whole ceiling down on top of them. Vagus, however, thought fast. Ignoring Mycaelis panic driven barrage of curses and swears, he sprayed down the door with his Water Gun .

‘Bloody close one, mate,’ sighed Mycaelis in relief.

Outside, they could hear Gauis barking orders to Divina who snapped orders back to Artemis, who seemed to take a delight in throwing in orders of her own. They seemed like actors in a play, well trained, well-rehearsed, and ready to play out their part like they had been doing it all their lives. Laconians were dangerous on their own, only a fool would question that, but it was when they fought together that they were truly deadly.  

After what seemed like an hour, the horrifying and chaotic sounds of battle began to fade deeper and deeper into the jungle until not even Vagus’ keen hearing could hear them. There was only the sound of silence.

‘I think they’re gone.’ Mycaelis was already ramming himself against the door, trying again to get out.

With the door structurally weakened by the fire, the charcoaled frame was quick to break. Vagus, also sensing the danger to be passed, helped his brother, ramming against the door until it collapsed into a smoldering black heap.

Both Mycaelis and Vagus were already well acquainted with the sound of death, but had yet to see it on any significant level. What lay outside the door beheld them that very experience. They saw Death.

The jungle before them was ablaze with fire, the smell of burning jungle was thick in the air. An orange blaze of light surrounded the two siblings as the world they knew, or once knew, burned before their very eyes. Embers danced like fireflies in what was once the cold night air. There was also the smell, a coppery scent of blood and gore had filled their nostrils and that is when they saw them; bodies.

Dozens upon dozens, upon dozens, perhaps even a hundred. As they walked onward the hundred became hundreds more. They lay lifeless, scattered about the desolated jungle floor, the soil of which had now become mud, soaked by the blood and squishy entrails of the fallen creatures. Both siblings beheld the sight with open gobs as though they were witnessing the aftermath of Armageddon. No words could leave their mouths, even Mycaelis’ vast vocabulary of profanities and swears was left befuddled by the destruction he beheld. 

Vagus took a moment to examine the corpse of a Mankey. His father had claimed this kill, for the creature’s abdomen had been torn out by the unmistakably vicious and powerful claws of a Feraligatr. Gone was the blaring red menace that shone within the depths of its eyes. Looking at it now, it appeared deceptively innocent, so innocent that one would think it was the victim of a psychopath.  All the fallen looked the same, their eyes hallow and devoid of the red glow that chilled Vagus to his very core.

The two siblings continued to walk in absolute silence among the dead, deeper into the jungle. Neither of them could bring themselves to breathe words to one another. The Jungle brush had turned to ashes, the trunks of the trees and canopy were alight with flames that continued to bathe the two brothers in a hellish glow. The mass of bodies continued onward and onward and onward... 

Vagus’ found his mind somewhere between the precipice of sleep and consciousness, he had no idea where he was walking, what he was doing. Was he following Mycaelis, or was it Mycaelis who was following him? He didn’t know. One thing that he did know for certain was that the mass trail of bodies and devastation before him would have to end at some point.

For Vagus, it ended sooner. Amongst the bodies, the flames, and the singed fallen branches of the jungle canopy, he felt his foot collide with something leathery and yet strangely familiar in texture. He stopped and when he stopped, Mycaelis also stopped. Vagus knelt and pushed aside the butchered corpse of a Sneasel and what he uncovered underneath brought tears of worry and fear to his eyes.

It was his mother’s journal; her coveted, precious journal.  The same journal which she had slammed her claw down upon and dragged away from Vagus’ curious eyes earlier this very evening, declaring he must never look within. It was the book he would see his mother writing in every day using Unown, a text that none other than she could properly read. Never once could Vagus ever recall her being separated from this journal for more than a second. Whatever secrets she guarded within were secrets she would have died to protect. It was knowing this that caused Vagus to be engulfed by a wave of fear. Her book was here, and she was not.

‘Mum!” Vagus found his voice and cried out into the flaming jungle. ‘Mum! Where are you? Hello?’

‘Dad!’ Mycaelis piped up and wondered forth through the jungle ahead of Vagus. ‘Dad! Ya out there? Where are ya?’

Vagus hugged the journal close to his chest, embracing it as though it were the body of his own mother. He wanted to see her, he wanted to see her right now, this instant. Right now she was finishing off the last of those attackers, she would be walking back. She would soon to appear from behind a charcoaled tree trunk, ready to whoop Vagus’ butt for leaving the house when he wasn’t supposed to.  

She never appeared.

Mycaelis was still calling out for his father, for their father. ‘Dad! Dad where are ya?’

Vagus summoned his strength and wiped away his tears. He ventured forth after his brother. His mother would have expected him to keep the idiot in line, even during a time like this. He caught up with him and discovered a look of concern that he never thought was possible for his brother to express.

Mycaelis was howling now. Vagus now knew, for possibly the first time, he was truly afraid.

“Dad!’ He roared out into the ember strewn jungle. ‘Dad! We’re over here!’ he screamed as loud as his young lungs would allow him.

What followed Mycaelis next call made Vagus knees almost buckle.

‘M…Mycaelis…’ rumbled a voice. Both brothers snapped around in the direction of the response.

Both Mycaelis and Vagus had now seen Death. They had seen a burning jungle strewn with the corpses of hundreds, but nothing in this small and hostile world could prepare them for the sight they beheld.

Against the trunk of a blackened and burned tree, Gaius leaned. His body was covered in blood once more, but this time, much to the horror of both Mycaelis and Vagus, they realised that most of it was his own. The hulking Feraligatr clenched a concealed wound to his left torso and regarded both his sons with the most vacant of expressions. It seemed as though his very soul and essence had been sucked from his body. Vagus also took note of something quiet startling, his father’s black armband was missing, perhaps torn off in the midst of battle?

Both siblings watched on as their father took one step towards them, followed by a second and a third, allowing a grunt to escape his jaws. He regarded his sons with a brief look of anguish before collapsing to the ground with a profound thud.

At first Vagus felt the earth shake. Did it shake? Or was it he who was shaking? Yes, he was indeed. His body quivered in sheer horror as he watched his father fall. His father couldn’t fall, it wasn’t possible. He was king of this world, king of the jungle, king of Vagus’ world; ruler over his destiny.  

‘Dad!’ Mycaelis was almost screaming. Faster than lighting, he ran to his father’s side. He pulled at Gaius’ arm. ‘C’mon, Dad! Get up! What are ya playing at? Get up!’

The small Charmander was strong, but only strong enough to lift the Feraligatr’s beefy, muscle-ladened arm and give it several firm pulls. Gaius, however, like a persistent stone boulder, refused to budge.

‘Dammit, Dad! Get up, for fuck’s sake get up!’ Tears began to well in Mycaelis’ eyes.

Vagus softly plodded closer but not before he allowed himself a moment to take in the world around him. His world around him was dying, consumed by fire, by flames and overrun by the corpses of hundreds of murderous monsters. This world was dying and before his very eyes, its king, his own father was dying along with it.  

As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, a chorusing cackle of laughter, same as before, could be heard further off in the distance. Both Mycaelis and Vagus turned their attention to it momentary and looked at each other with expressions of horror. At that moment, Gaius’ suddenly limp arm sprang to life and held Mycaelis close.  

‘Boy,’ Gaius rumbled as he opened his eyes and gazed up at his son. ‘You…listen to me clear, you hear?’

‘Not listening to shit! Get your…’  

‘You’re not strong enough!’ coughed Gaius, droplets of blood spurting from his mouth. ‘We…weren’t strong enough.’ With unprecedented tenderness he gently held Mycaelis tiny hand in his massive claw. ‘They’re comin’. All of them. We couldn’t…stop th-’ He coughed again, bringing up another spate of blood.

‘No…no,' Mycaelis voice, usually loud and writhe with obnoxiousness had now been reducing to a whimper. ‘Please, Dad. Please…’ Tears rolled down the young Charmander’s cheeks.

Vagus look over his father’s body and tried to get a glimpse of his wounds. His father was covered in a horrific collation of cuts and slashes which bled profusely, but Vagus couldn’t catch a glimpse of the more sever life threatening wound that he kept hidden under his belly.  

‘Vagus, come here,’ his father’s voice addressed him in a tone he never thought he would speak to him in. To Vagus it didn’t sound barking, unpleasant or harsh, it sounded warm, comforting, like a father’s voice should sound.

Vagus approached. ‘Yes, Sir?’

‘Get…out of…here. Take Mycaelis. Take him. Never. Look. Back.’

He was asking him to run? For Mycaelis to run? But Laconians never ran, they never retreated or surrendered. Their code in that respect was as cliché as a code could get. But to Vagus, retreating and running had always made sense; it meant you got to live to fight another day. Nonetheless, he would do as his father instructed. Something he had always done.

Vagus dared to ask his father a question. His father always hated him asking questions, they were usually answered with a swift backhanding. Gaius, however, was in no position to backhand Vagus for asking one now.

‘Where’s mum?’ the young Totodile asked. He held onto hope that she was still alive.

‘Your…mother is gone. I’m sorry, Son.’

Immediately Vagus felt like those words had cut him in two. With those final words, Gaius’ arm went limp one final time. Vagus peered into his father’s eye as he watched the life drain from it and close. The monster of Prismatic Jungle was no more.

‘Son.’ Gauis’ final word seemed to echo within Vagus’ mind.

Vagus felt his heart warm. He was horrified beyond imagining, his mother was dead, his world ablaze, the only life he had ever known was in tatters, but his heart felt warm, suddenly calm. Yet his mind, his constantly questioning mind, questioned his father’s final sediment. He had never called him son, never acknowledged him as his. The father he had always known would have washed his mouth out with vinegar if he as much used the word “son” to describe Vagus.

Mycaelis moaned and was overcome by a fit of rage. He pounded and bashed his father’s body, biding him to rise, provoking him to return to life just to render punishment on his son for striking him. He drove his tiny fists into the mass of bloodied scales that was his father’s body. ‘Get up! Get up! Get up!’

He eventually exhausted himself and collapsed onto Gaius’ body, moaning and weeping, clinging to the hope that it would rise from the barren jungle soil. He did not.

‘Mycaelis…’ mumbled Vagus, finding his voice once more.

The cackles in the distance were growing louder. Mycaelis ignored Vagus, perhaps he didn’t hear him over his screams of anguish. He would do as his father requested and what his mother would have bade him to do. He was afraid, he was horrified in fact, but he was still of sound mind and, looking at Mycaelis, he knew that he was the only one in possibly the entire jungle that could still think straight. He had to get his brother out of here.

‘Mycaelis!’ he moved forward and grabbed his brother by the shoulder.

He still couldn’t get his attention and still couldn’t make himself heard over the screams and cries of Mycaelis’ delirium. His mourning was also luring those laughs and cackles closer. Vagus then did something that he had always wanted to do to his brother when he didn't listen to him.

Summoning what strength he could in his free arm, Vagus drove a punch into Mycaelis head, knocking him away from his father’s body and onto his backside. ‘Look at me! Focus!’

And so Mycaelis looked at his brother and focused, he did.

‘You heard what he said!’ snapped Vagus.

He still didn’t believe his father would ever make such a request, but right now it was the only sane decision that any two children could make in a situation like this. ‘You know what he wanted us to do!’

Mycaelis gave a sombre nod, but did nothing to move. He couldn’t move. He sat there, seemingly in a daze, making Vagus wonder if he had perhaps punched him too hard. It didn’t matter. They had to get out of here, both of them. With the shrieks and cackles of those creatures creeping nearer, Vagus grabbed Mycaelis’ arm and pulled him to his feet. He took one final look at his father’s bloodied body and allowed Mycaelis to have a moment as well. The Charmander simply stared on with hollow eyes that bore no sign of life or emotion. His mind was miles away, completely detached from his body. He followed Vagus’ gentle tugs like a placid dog on a short leash.

Then Vagus did what his father had bid him to do. He turned around, and didn’t look back. Mycaelis tried to tug away at him, but Vagus held firm and pulled him back to follow him. The shrieks of the monsters behind them were closing in, they had to run.

‘C’mon!’ hissed Vagus. He pulled at Mycaelis arm and ran with his brother in tow. Mycaelis was delusional at best, but nonetheless cooperated. ‘That’s it. C’mon,’ Vagus encouraged him.

They both quickened in pace and soon the blazing and smouldering jungle was left behind. Vagus didn’t stop there; he continued to press on, never once stopping to rest. His brother didn’t seem to protest against it, Mycaelis didn’t seem to feel like saying anything at all. Eventually, he became more responsive and was able to run without Vagus’ coercion.

Vagus knew that there was a world outside the one that burned behind him. He had only known of it in stories told by his mother and father, but he knew about them nonetheless. Running through the pitch black jungle, he felt an odd burst of excitement mix with his anxieties. He was free now. Free to explore this new world and the adventures that awaited him.

The darkness of the jungle soon came to pass as the silver light of a full moon began to shimmer through the thinning jungle canopy. Vagus felt something that he rarely ever felt, the breeze of the wind. It was cool and crisp and beckoned him forth. He looked above him and allowed his eyes to drink deep from the ocean of stars that glowed above.

The jungle itself was thinning now, the trees growing thinner and the moss that gathered around their trunks, rarer. Vagus was so entranced by all these new wondrous things that he set a foot wrong, tripping on an upturned root and landing face first on a patch of soft grass.

Grass! Vagus rose from the ground, spitting several grass blades from his gob. There was so little of the stuff in the jungle. How could there be grass?

‘Vagus…’ Mycaelis whispered behind him, blankly staring into the distance. 'Where…where are we?’

Vagus jumped to his feet and discovered why there was grass. There was no jungle…only a sweeping plane before him. It was dark, but the silver light of the moon made everything clear. The acres after acres of grass swayed in the caressing chill of the night wind. For the exhausted siblings, it was a welcoming feeling.

Vagus had no answer for Mycaelis, but instead had many questions. All of them he would find answers to sooner or later. Soon, the sun would rise and, when it did, it would come to open a new horizon and another chapter in Vagus’ life, a new beginning. It would open the door to another world, a world far wider and vaster than the savage confines of a jungle, a world full of adventure and mystery. He looked down at his mother’s blood stained journal and knew that this was a world where his many questions would finally be answered.