Expectations (2/6)

Life had no room for weakness and weakness was all that Vagus had to offer. Vagus had seen firsthand what happened to those who were weak, the creatures of this jungle that were foolish enough to challenge his father. A Salamence, despite boasting the attributes of a freak of nature, lay torn to pieces in a nearby clearing. A pair of Rhydon, who attempted to intrude upon his father, lay with their rock like chests shattered and insides strewn on the ground. In the very hut which he sat, the skulls of an Aggron, a Haxorus, a Dragonite and several Tyranitar adorned the walls, infinite reminders to Vagus that the world he lived in had no room for weakness.  

While his brother toiled under the savagery of his father’s training, Vagus remained here in his home, or at least that’s what he had been taught all his life to call this hovel with its leaky thatched roof, creepy skulls and mossy stone walls. His eyes, his two emerald green eyes, began to wonder and trace the cracks in ever dull stone that glowed in the dim light of the candles that surrounded him.

‘Focus now, Vagus.’ A silk-smooth voice that always helped him find a sense of inner meaning came from behind.

He was not alone in this desolated hut, he never really was. An orange clawed hand came to rest on his shoulder, prompting him to look down again at the crude desk upon which lay several pages of parchment with odd looking runes scrawled across them.

‘Mum, please. I need to see the reference again. I can’t read these without it.’

Divina, a slender and elegant Charizard came to kneel at his side. If Vagus’ father was a prime specimen that demonstrated brute strength, then his mother was a specimen that demonstrated a deadly mixture of beauty, intellect as well as strength. Vagus knew that some of the skulls in this hut were placed there by her. But it was raw strength that this jungle recognised and thus his father still ruled as the king of Vagus’ tiny world, even if his mother were to claim a pile of skulls more than him.

‘Vagus,’ She gazed at him with pair of emerald green eyes of her own, ‘While your father may loath your ability to tear apart foes, I don’t doubt what you have in here,” She prodded his head. ‘You know you can read them. Remember what you learned yesterday about…’

‘It’s not exactly helping when I have to sit here for hours staring at the same pages, you know?’

‘Then stop staring and start seeing.’

Vagus grunted and exhaled, doing what he could to push aside his frustration and to make sense of the runes before him. The “words”, as his mother called it, of the Unown perplexed him, yet mystified him to the point of intrigue. They were words, letters of words, that not even his father could make sense of. They were something that not even he, the self-proclaimed ruler of Vagus’ small word, could grasp the meaning of. It was here in these tattered pages before him that his father was weak and he was strong and that it was his mother that gave him every ounce of his strength.

Vagus peered onto the pages and took his mother’s words to heart. He did more than just stare, he saw and when he saw, he remembered. The words seemed to dance in his mind, the letters becoming words that he could make sense of. Some things seemed familiar, others not so much, but soon he was able to piece them together one at a time before the runes on the paper became words he could speak. He had done it.

“They are Ladon’s finest warriors, those who devote themselves to him. Forged in the fires of battle, they are the bulwark against chaos. They are the Laconians, the warriors without equal.”

Vagus grinned when he finished reading the words out loud. He recognised the phrase, it was one that he had heard many times before.  He turned to his mother with a smile, both proud of his efforts and surprised by what they yielded.

‘This quote, it’s the same one from those stories you and dad tell us?’

‘Yes.  I know how much you enjoy them.’ Usually Divinia’s face was almost always expressionless, her voice monotone and her eyes unflinching. It didn’t take much for Vagus to notice a slight and proud grin appearing at the corner of her mouth.

The pieces of the puzzle in Vagus’ head clicked into place and he realised that she had chosen something he would easily recognise.  

‘What happened to the Laconians? If they were all so tough like you and dad, then why are we the last of them? There aren’t any more around, maybe hiding in this jungle like us?’

Divina shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not, Vagus. We and these stories are all that remain. And as for what happened to them…’ The remaining words stopped dead in her mouth.

Vagus was almost cringing in anticipation to hear her tell him. He gazed at his mother, a usually focused and sharp minded female who now stared into space, her mouth gaped and eyes droopy like those of an idiot.

‘Mum…’ He noticed her twitch slightly when he spoke. She turned to him with what he knew was a forced smile.

‘That is a story for another time. Perhaps when you are older.’

‘Oh? Well…maybe I can read stuff from that book that you always write in. I mean, you always write in Unown. What do you even write in that book. Is it a journal or something?’

A mixture of apprehension and agitation flooded Divina’s eyes. The book in question, a small leather covered tome with symbol matching the one on their armbands, lay on the desk beside the papers. Like lightning from the night sky, Divina’s claw slammed down on it and pulled it away from Vagus’ curious eyes. Her voice went cold and sent a chill down Vagus’ spine.

 ‘Vagus…listen to me very clearly. You are not to touch this book. Ever! I find you reading from it, I will not be responsible for what your father will do to you. Do you understand?’

Vagus felt his heart sink and before he could protest against his mother’s decree, the door to their small hut was thrown open, its rusty makeshift hinges groaning in protest as a brute lumbered through the threshold of the doorway. Vagus felt his heart sink even further and whatever pride of his accomplishments remained soon vanished at the sight of his father entering the house.

Gaius quickly slammed the door shut with the same brutish force he had used to open it. In his free arm he cradled an unconscious Charmander, a youth who Vagus knew as his brother. Vagus felt the iron weight of his father’s imposing gaze descend upon him. He felt it as though the weight of the ocean were bearing down upon him whenever his father looked upon him, rendering judgment at the most instant of glances and undermining any attempts to make himself appear slightly less pathetic. 

Something appeared unusual about his father as he lumbered into the hovel. Perhaps it was the small collation of scratches he had acquired, or the small patches of singed flesh, or layers of soot…or maybe it was the grin that was forming at the side of his mouth. His mother had also noticed it, she had noticed them all as he had, but only she was allowed to comment on it.

‘Well now,’ Divina strode towards her mate and caressed his bulky arms, examining his wounds.  ‘Seems like someone got their butt kicked today, hm?’

Gaius responded with a chuckle. ‘Not so sure if I’ll consider it a butt kicking, but this strong one is definitely full of surprises.’

Divina turned her attention to Mycaelis who lay tucked away asleep in his father’s arm and regarded both him and his father with a disapproving glance. ‘You don’t think you’re pushing him too hard? You bring him home in this state every afternoon.’

‘Nonsense.’ Gaius waved a hand in dismissal and strode past her and Vagus.

Vagus remained silent, his father seemed to like pretending that he didn’t exist and Vagus was all the more happy to play that game. It kept him away from his father’s scorn, his judgments and his expectations. He watched as Gaius set Mycaelis down on his bed of dried leaves and vines taken from the jungle. He watched from afar as Gaius caressed his son’s head and smiled upon him as he slept. 

‘Look at him, Divina.’ Gaius beamed when he turned to his mate. ‘Are we not blessed with the strongest of sons? I’ll make him the strongest Laconian to have ever lived, stronger than those in the stories of old, stronger than the both of us combined. Our son will be a legend in his own right.’

‘With ambitions like that, I fear he’ll be a dead son before long. Were we still in the place of old, the Ephors would have you reprimanded for pushing him to such extremes.’ 

‘Yes, but we’re not, are we?” Gaius turned to her with the expression of an excited school boy, a very large and menacing school boy. ‘This is our chance, a chance to create a warrior the likes of which Laconia has never seen! My son, our son, will be that warrior!’

Vagus could never make any sense of some of the words. Ephors, Place of Old, Laconia. Such things were beyond Vagus’ comprehension, it were as though his parents were speaking in code, hoping to keep him oblivious to things. The secrecy irritated him at times, but he respected it and tried as hard as possible to not ask questions.

Divina in the meantime had busied herself dipping a wet cloth into a bowl of water. She then approached Gaius and began to wipe away the soot from his arms.

‘Mycaelis is indeed strong, perhaps even stronger than most of our kind.’ She worked the cloth up to his oversized snout and dabbed a small scratch left by Mycaelis. ‘But those who walk the path to greater strength are subject to folly, Gaius. Ensure you don’t accidently birth a monster instead of a warrior.’ She nuzzled his snout.

‘What would you have me do, Divina? Have him sit at that desk and force him to stare at blotchy symbols that will serve him no purpose in his life. Such is an occupation reserved for cripples…’ his gaze shifted over to Vagus, ‘…and weaklings.’

‘Oh?’ Divina was quick to bring herself between the two and break Gaius gaze. ‘And me? Am I a cripple or weakling?’

At this Gaius simply smiled and caressed her cheek. ‘You are amongst our kind’s most gifted, a master of many talents and skills,' his gaze soon found its way back to Vagus. ‘It’s a pity that some of us are born without any.’

Usually his mother would protest against his comments and would argue for Gaius to give Vagus a chance, just a fleeting moment to demonstrate what he could do, that there was use for him, that he could live up to a small limit of expectations, and that he was good enough to justify his existence. But now, it seemed that after all these years she had started giving up. Vagus didn’t blame her; he imagined that a more meaningful conversation could take place with a solid stone wall. Instead his mother fell silent for a moment and said something that surprised he, and his father, both.

‘They’ve arranged a meeting,’

Gaius, as equally confused as Vagus, furrowed his brow, mystified by the sudden turn in the conversation. ‘Meeting? Who?’

His mother regarded Vagus with a nervous glance before dropping her tone to a near whisper. Despite her change in tone, Vagus could still hear the words that came from her mouth. ‘Our contact. They report we should meet at noon.’

‘Ah,’ Gaius eyes drifted down to Mycaelis who rested on the bed. ‘I can’t go. Not until Mycaelis wakes up. Wouldn’t be right to not be here when he awakens. His injuries need tending to.’

‘I know, but they’ve requested that you come personally. Our presence has caused quite a stir in this jungle. We can’t make it more difficult.’

Gaius growled in annoyance. ‘You're right.’

‘He’ll understand,’ assured Divina.

Vagus winced as his father’s expression turned vicious. It was terrifying sight to behold and was the last thing that many others saw before dying an agonising death at his claws. He turned to Vagus. ‘Come here, boy!’

Like an obedient servant Vagus strode forth. ‘Yes, Sir?’ His father hated it when he, Vagus specifically, addressed him as dad or father. The use of “Sir” seemed to placate his father.

‘You will treat Mycaelis’ injuries to the best of your limited abilities. You will tend to his needs when he awakens and inform him we will return after dusk. Is this understood?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Good!’ He then turned to Divina. ‘Let’s go.’

Before they could even reach the door, Vagus allowed his curiosity to get the better of him and asked question that would usually contain a swift swipe across the face by his father’s hand as a response. ‘Where are you off to?’

His father froze and looked back at him. He must have been in a hurry; else he would have given such a response then and there. Instead he simply grumbled. ‘It’s not of your concern.’

‘Or Mycaelis’.’ Added Divina as she opened the door and urged her mate to continue onwards.

And so Vagus the Totodile was left alone there in that hut, charged with the duty of caring for his father’s dream, the dream of creating the strongest warrior the world would ever know. Mycaelis was more than just his son, more than just a monster of his creation; he was Gaius dream, his life’s work.

And Vagus? Vagus was but one of many jigsaw pieces in bringing Gaius vision of a perfect warrior into reality. This was the limit of his father’s expectations of him in this small world in this desolate jungle. Vagus however did take solace in the fact that failure was impossible. He already knew he couldn’t become more of a failure than what his father already saw him as.