With strong, majestic flaps of his wings, Tiwaz flew over the grassy landscape. It had been several hours by wing, but he was now almost at Sparta. He hated the idea of how much time he was wasting just by travelling, so he flew faster than he normally would.
He hoped there would be some order in the city when he arrived. If not, he would definately have a few choice words to say to the officers in charge there.
While only an auxiliary one, part of the reason why Tiwaz wanted to go to Sparta was so that he could get far enough away from Fenrir so that he wouldn't feel as much of his DNA Digivolving partner's presence. It only served to remind him of the fact that the AncientGarurumon had been lying to him the whole time they had known each other. Hundreds of years of secrets. His caring yet meddlesome nature was opposed to them, even though Tiwaz had secrets of his own. He wouldn't admit it at this point, but Fenrir was right about Tiwaz being a hypocrite, even if the dragon was well-intentioned in his reasons.
Tiwaz wouldn't let himself dwell on the issue. He knew that he had a job to do. And that was help prepare the soldiers and citizens of Sparta the best that he could. He had helped defend many towns and cities before.
"Are you sure that this is a good idea, Tiwaz?" Tyr asked. "Should we be going off by ourselves and leaving the others? What if they encounter Mephistopheles? What if they need Perun?"
"Have all the Peacemakers defend just one city while abandoning these other major cities? Sparta or Athens are worth no less than Anatolia in my books," Tiwaz responded. "Besides, we don't know what Mephistopheles is up to; it's better if we cast a wide net." The AncientGreymon closed his eyes. "And I doubt we could even become Perun like this."
"Who? You and Fenrir?" Tyr asked.
"No. Me and Trowa," Tiwaz said with a roll of his eyes. "Yes, me and Fenrir. Were you asleep during our row? Our hearts need to be able to beat as one or some rubbish in order for us to DNA digivolve. I know how he feels about me and I know that I'm not even sure if I trust him now. There's no way it'll work. Besides, I can sense that he's still weak from that ordeal with Azur. Not to mention the fact that I feel like there's something off about him."
"But the last time you digivolved into Perun, right after we... err, defeated Typhon... you two had just argued and could still do it well enough," the VictoryGreymon pointed out.
"That was different... We both had a common goal in mind: killing Amatsu-Mikaboshi," the Ancient of Flame explained. "Right now... I don't know where his head or his heart is at. Hell, I was surprised that we even managed to successfully DNA digivolve those two times against the Chaos Lords, especially after..." He trailed off. "Anyways, yeah. It's not as simple as simply saying a chant."
"That's why you should talk your problems out with each other. Dragon to werewolf," Tyr suggested.
Tiwaz growled and shook his goggled head. "He's untalkable!" he said in vocal frustration. "Believe me, I've tried talking to him! It's like talking to an anti-social, insufferable, eye-rolling rock!"
Tyr sighed, unconvinced by Tiwaz's argument. "Okay..."
"You think it's my fault, don't you?" the AncientGreymon asked.
"What?! I didn't say that!" he frantically insisted.
"I almost wish you would. You need to gain more confidence in yourself, Tyr! Didn't your dad, Hymir, tell you to stand up for what you believe in and all that?" Tiwaz asked.
Tyr was silent for a few moments. "Kind of... It's just that... When I was young, after mum died, he kept putting more and more time into the brewery. He wasn't home as much and I spent a lot of time at Gunnar's," he answered. "I know he still loved me... We just didn't spend as much time together as other dads and their sons... He loved my mom more than anything, so when she died, he changed a bit..."
Tiwaz nodded slightly, flying in silence. "...I see. So that's what he was talking about..." he finally said, remembering Hymir's heartfelt words to Tyr in the damaged jail.
"Yeah..." Tyr said sadly. A silence ensued.
"...I miss him..."
"...I know, Tyr," Tiwaz said understandly. He closed his eyes. "Tyr, you know it's still possible he's alive..."
"I know... I still can't bring myself to find out, just in case he's... not," Tyr explained, cringing at the idea.
The AncientGreymon nodded. "That's one thing I won't push on you... Whenever you want to, Tyr."
They flew in relative silence for the remaining minutes. Tiwaz advised that Tyr went to sleep and it didn't take long for the VictoryGreymon to comply.
The city of Sparta was finally in view. The AncientGreymon flew over the city walls and observed the Grecan architecture below him. There were Digimon of all sorts scurrying around, most of them soldiers from what Tiwaz gathered. There was also an influx of civilians going into the city.
Tiwaz readied his acting chops and swooped down onto the road. No later than when his feet touched the ground, Tiwaz found himself staring down the shaft of lance. The AncientGreymon looked up and saw a Gallantmon in front of him, five Knightmon on his left, five Grademon on his right, and five Okuwamon behind him.
The Gallantmon narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously. "What's your business here?"
The dragon god stared at the officer calmly, but didn't let himself appear defiant. Instead, he adapted himself to become reasonable and as cool-headed as he could. Tiwaz bowed his head slightly. "Tiwaz Koenig at your service," he responded. "I am one of the Peacemakers. And those of you who read should quickly recognize me as one of the members of the Great Ten, as well."
There was some chatter amongst the soldiers, but the Gallantmon lowered his Gram. "So the rumours are true," he muttered. "Fenrir Weissritter as well?"
Tiwaz grunted. "He is back at Anatolia with most of my comrades. I came here to lend my assistance."
"That's a shame," the Gallantmon replied. "It would have been twice the morale boost if we had Perun Sturmrächer at our disposal, but still, we're grateful you showed up."
"And you are?" he asked, eyeing the Gallantmon.
"Perseus," the Gallantmon replied. "I'm in charge of things here."
Tiwaz nodded. "Pleasure to meet you. How are your defences?" he asked.
"Pretty strong," Perseus replied. "We've recruited every digimon who could hold their own in a fight, including digimon from the refugees that are flocking to the city for protection. We set up a full perimeter with several lines of defence."
"Good," Tiwaz replied, looking down at the Gallantmon. "Are there any UlforceVeedramon about? I need a line of communication between here and Anatolia. The same goes for the other cities."
"No need for messengers," Perseus replied with a slight smile. He gestured behind him to a Monitamon. "With him, we have a direct link to Anatolia along with most of the other cities. Thor Odinson's message to the world helped ease things."
Tiwaz looked at the Monitamon's screen and indeed saw Anatolia. "Incredible. That little boxhead is showing what's going on in Anatolia as we speak? Where were they thousands of years ago?" He looked back up at Perseus. "You know this city better than I do; where would I be best stationed."
"The first line of defence," Perseus responded. "We need strength and leadership on the frontlines. As for where, we won't know until we're attacked."
Tiwaz nodded until something off to the side caught his attention. He saw an EmperorGreymon leading a large group of digimon down the street. "What in the blazes...?"
The crimson knight turned around. "Oh, them. They came all the way from Tiwheim to take shelter here."
"Excuse me a second..." Tiwaz offhandedly said to Perseus as he passed him, walking towards the group that was heading up an opposite street. "Hoenir!" he shouted out.
The EmperorGreymon in question turned and nearly tripped over himself upon seeing his ancestor again, in Sparta of all places. The High Defender of Tiwheim quickly told one of his subordinates to continue leading the civilians. Once that was finished, he ran over. "Tiwaz!" he responded, still in shock.
The AncientGreymon grinned a bit. "I thought that was you, boy."
Hoenir smiled. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going with the Peacemakers."
"I am," he explained. "But I came here to help while we wait for the demon to act. What about you? Did you bring all of Tiwheim?"
The EmperorGreymon nodded. "Yeah. We heard reports and agreed it would be best to take them to major cities since there's safety in numbers. There were a bunch of other villages and towns doing it as well."
"I see..." Tiwaz spoke, suddenly becoming quiet and thoughtful. A matter that had weighed on his mind recently resurfaced and urged him to do something about it.
The AncientGreymon looked at his descendant carefully. "Tyr... Are you awake?" he thought to the VictoryGreymon.
There was no reply, giving Tiwaz his answer. The Ancient of Fire sighed and looked at Hoenir.
"Hoenir... There's something I need to talk to you about."
-
Gunnar walked down Anatolia's defensive lines with Sigurd and Ulik, all following behind Dhazbog.
"Yeah, I guess Thor and Bedivere's speeches were pretty motivating," Gunnar said, shrugging with a smile. "I mean, I think I could easily have done better, but that's kind of their one thing, you know? How could I take that away from them?"
Sigurd scoffed and Ulik smiled a bit. "You're a real Digimonitarian," the BlackWarGreymon said.
Gunnar chuckled. "Yeah, I know..."
"That's right. What was your kill count again?" Sigurd asked. The WarGreymon started mock-counting on his fingers. "Oh, that's right. Zero."
The ShineGreymon rolled his eyes. "The only one of us that killed anybody so far was Thor and Svarog. ...And Lucia, technically, but that was kinda... not her doing."
"And they were civilians," Sigurd grumbled.
"And, like I said, she was possessed by a demon," Gunnar reitterated.
"Are they really that skilled?" Ulik questioned.
"That, or you guys just suck," the WarGreymon laughed.
The ShineGreymon grinned competitively. "Says the guy who wasn't even picked to be a Peacemaker. You're a pretty terrible soldier, Sig; you're way too emotional."
Sigurd growled. "You'll be emotional when I'm through with you!"
Gunnar just laughed and slung his arm around the WarGreymon's shoulder.
Their superior and friend, Dhazbog, looked over his shoulder at them. "Get focused, guys. Keep an eye out for where Zeta Company is," he said. "Gunnar, you shouldn't even be tagging along with us. Start getting these digimon in order."
"Dhazzy," the ShineGreymon laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "A few weeks ago, I was a Corporal. I'm still an NCO; just because I'm a Peacemaker now, doesn't mean I'm suddenly this big league officer. I'm not a Stormheart."
"No," the EmperorGreymon agreed. "But you're a Peacemaker now. They're going to be looking up to you and your comrades for hope and direction. You're going to have to supply them with that. Tyr had growing up to do when he was with the Peacemakers and so do you. We're counting on you."
"For once, I agree with Dhaz," Sigurd complied, giving Gunnar a punch on the shoulder. "If I can't be there, show these guys what the Greymon Alliance is made of."
Ulik grinned and nodded as well.
Gunnar scoffed. "No pressure or anything, right?" he asked. "Okay. I'm pretty sure I can pull this off. I am the most awesome and studly hot Peacemaker there is, right?"
"You can always dream, Gunnar," Dhazbog said. The three chuckled, leaving Gunnar unamused.
The ShineGreymon jumped into the air, releasing several blue so-called Burst particles from his wings with a flap. Sigurd grumbled something about getting fairy dust on him. Gunnar grinned and confidently glanced behind him at his friends. "Well, I'm off. I'll see ya when I see ya. Whatever you guys do, stay together and don't die, okay?"
Dhazbog grinned proudly. "See, you're already getting the hang of it."
Gunnar laughed and gave them a wink and a thumbs up. "Later, pals."
The ShineGreymon whipped through the Anatolian airspace, observing the digimon below. He could see several perimeters and formations being established. It was a slight relief to them that things were already looking way more organized than they were against the Royal Knights' siege and the Chaos Lords' invasion.
Gunnar frowned. He remembered that Sir Hector was still in the demon's captivity. As the only true local member of the Royal Knights left, Gunnar worried about him. Like Tyr, as a child, Gunnar always idolized the Royal Knights. Sir Hector in particular was one of the ones that he identified with most. "We'll free you from those pitspawn," he thought to himself.
His thoughts were interrupted when Bedivere entered his line of sight. Gunnar swooped down and hovered in front of the Slayerdramon. "Yo, Beddy," he greeted informally. "How are the tactics going? Should the Peacemakers be evenly distributed throughout the lines?" he asked.
He pointed his thumb to himself. "You know, I do have Burst Mode so I can pretty much be a powerhouse when I need to be, but I've got to use it strategically. It amps up my firepower, strength, defense and speed, but when I dedigivolve, I'm spent. So yeah, wherever you need me, just say," he said.
Gunnar turned around, readying to fly away, but then he had an afterthought. "Hey, man. I know you're not the most popular Peacemaker anymore, but I'm with you on the Mephistopheles and demon thing. We need to roast those guys before they can cause anymore pain. After knowing they killed my dad way back when was bad enough, but now I've seen what they can do first hand. They've destroyed cities and virtually ruined my pal, Barry's life... To be honest, I can't wait to hunt these guys down. That said... I'm not going to trample over other, good digimon in order to do it. That would be pretty hypocritical if you ask me."
Gunnar sighed. "While Artorius had a bit of a point, and while he was a role model to me growing up, I don't think what he did was right. I mean, besieging Avalon? I'm one of the biggest fans of the Royal Knights and I can't condone that. So yeah... don't lose sight of what's important."
-
Pyra flew down a wide, cobbled street until reaching a grand home. The Paildramon descended in front of the mansion and walked up to the door, knocking.
Before the second knock, the door to her house opened and revealed Maximus to be standing there, looking at her in surprise. "Sis! I was wondering where you were," he said with a smile. "I heard you guys were back in town."
"Hey, Max," she greeted, smiling as well. Pyra then looked at him curiously, noticing that he had been halfway out the door when he answered. "Were you going somewhere?"
"Uh, yeah," Maximus said, rather nervously as evidenced by the way he rubbed the back of his neck. "Kinda..."
Pyra frowned and folded her arms suspiciously. "...What's going on?"
Max sighed. "...I'm going to help fight, Pyra," he explained.
"What?!" she demanded incredulously. "Was it Fath--"
"No!" Max insisted, raising his hands. "I want to fight! It's just liked at Avalon... If I can do something that can help make a difference, then I should, right, Sis?"
Pyra remained quiet. The tendrils of fear and uneasiness gripped her heart. The prospect of losing her brother was a reality she never wanted to face again. "...Max," she finally said. "You shouldn't. I don't want you to."
"But Pyra!" he protested passionately. "How do you think I feel whenever you go out with the Peacemakers? You said it before; it's my life! Shouldn't I help protect my friends and family? Just like what you're doing, sis...?"
The Paildramon cringed, but she knew he was right and if she said anything contrary, she'd just be being a hypocrite. "You're right, Max..." she admitted. "But... if anything happened to you..."
"I'll be careful," Max reassured her. He smiled and made a 'V' with his claws. "V for Victory, right?"
Pyra smiled and pulled him into a warm embrace. "Right... Promise me you'll be safe. Don't do anything reckless."
"I won't" the ExVeemon promised, returning the hug. "I know what it was like for you. I wouldn't want to put you through that again. I've gotta go now, though, okay?"
Pyra nodded and released him. "Don't cause them too much trouble," she said with a grin.
Maximus chuckled. "I won't."
She watched as he flew off and then turned, walking inside. There, Terraneus walked over from the large living room. "Ah, Pyra... When I heard about Odinson's speech, I was wondering about you."
"Father," she greeted with a smile.
"You don't have to worry about your mother," Terraneus explained. "She sent me a message saying that she was headed to one of the other cities for protection."
"That's good," Pyra answered, though she largely lived with her father during her life.
"Have a seat. Do you want any tea?" the Imperialdramon Dragon Mode asked.
Pyra took a seat on a couch but shook her head. "It's alright..."
The Paildramon stared at the wall opposite to her, gazing into space as she thought. She pondered Thor's words to her before they arrived in Anatolia. He told her that power gained meant nothing.
"...Pyra?" Terraneus asked with concern.
Pyra closed her eyes. "Father..." she said. "What you said to me before... I've figured it out."
The Imperialdramon frowned. "Oh?"
"The story about Paladrius Torren where he discovered the Digi-Egg of Tenacity and used it to gain a new form sometime after becoming a BlackImperialdramon Fighter Mode. About how the digi-egg's power was sent down through the male Torren line. You asked me what part of the story may not be true due to the legend being born in a different time," she explained, looking at him.
"Yes?" he asked.
"I couldn't figure it out until today, when the Commander, jokingly or not, called me Paladrius' second coming," Pyra said. "You think that a Torren doesn't have to be male to unlock the Digi-egg's power..."
Terraneus frowned as he stared at her. "That's... correct," he responded, his voice wary and uncertain as he observed her.
"And... I know why you wouldn't tell me," she said, looking at him, but without any traces of malice. "You thought that if you told me that I might be able to achieve that new power, I would go searching for it, trying to find a way to access it..."
Pyra closed her eyes. A chill crawled up her spine as she remembered her quest for more power during the Crusade, which ultimately led to... The sound of a dark, feral roar resounded in her mind.
Pyra swiftly opened her eyes and stared at her father. "I would have made the same mistake... I would have gotten power, but a false power. A power that could only destroy, not one that could protect..." she said. "If I am truly the one that is to inherit that power and that form, it won't suddenly be bestowed to me out of nothing like I might expect it to. It's something that I have to grasp with my own two hands and with my sweat and blood... That's what you wanted me to realize, wasn't it, Father?"
Terraneus closed his eyes and slowly nodded. "Correct, my Pyra..." he answered. "That's why I told you if you started desperately looking, like you had before... you wouldn't find it."
"I understand..." she said, closing her eyes. "But I can't help but desire it. The power to protect the ones I care about and the power to defeat the ones who threaten us. It seems only natural."
"Indeed... but if you let that desire consume, you will find only sorrow waiting for you."
Pyra opened her eyes and grimaced. The shadow of her mind loomed over her once again.
Always watching...
"I know..." she spoke finally. "I don't believe in destiny, but if it's to be... I can't try to force it."
Terraneus nodded. "Please remember that, Pyra... I don't want to lose you. Or Maximus."
She thought about this new found possibility. A form higher than Imperialdramon Fighter Mode. Was it the Paladin Mode? The idea couldn't help but invigorate her. However, at the same time, she knew she couldn't let the same mistakes repeat themselves. Power had to be earned... But if that was true, then what about the gods whose power was hereditary? No, she had to keep her feelings and desires in check. She had no excuse for another descent into darkness.
Pyra stood up. The flickering light from the torch behind her casting her shadow in front of her.
"I will, Father... I'll do my best to."
With those words, Pyra stepped forwards, embraced her father and said her farewells before stepping out into the night.
-
Somewhere in the thick of a forest, a rend opened up in mid air. From inside the void flew a GranKuwagamon with a TigerVespamon sitting on his back. The black bug blended in with the night sky as he flew, only the moon reflecting off his carapace.
Kheprius landed on the ground and immediately slide digivolved back to his GrandisKuwagamon. "This is as close as I could get. Navigating around in there isn't easy."
"Thank you," Barachiel replied minimally.
"Uh huh..." Khep replied dismissively. "I still don't know why I agreed to do this. Don't you think we have more important things to do?"
Barachiel remained quiet, looking around the dark landscape as he tried to get his bearings. "This is something I have to do, Kheprius," he finally responded upon realizing which direction they had to go. "I don't expect you to understand."
"Sounds like you just being sentimental," the grandis muttered, following Barachiel as he walked.
The TigerVespamon was silent as he treaded over and through some brush. It was a few minutes before they reached a clearing. In the clearing, one could tell that there was once something big there. The ground was clear and flat.
However, the only thing that stood in that clearing was a massive tree that reached into the dark, star-lit heavens. A light gust of wing ruffled the leaves on its branches, but it refused to move. The titan tree remained still and stoic, as if it were a watchful guardian of the area.
Barachiel stared at the tree, his expression unreadable.
This was his home.
This was what was left of his home.
"I'll be waiting over here, Terrak," Kheprius said, knowing that Barachiel probably wanted some alone time.
The gold insect was quiet as he stared at the ruins of Hadrael's mission. Everything looked so new and lush, they couldn't even be classified as ruins. Barachiel heard Kheprius' footsteps behind him, listening as they went further away. With the Royal Meisters in his hands, he stepped forwards towards the giant tree.
As he approached, the memories lunged out at him. Barachiel remembered the good times he had growing up in the monastery, the times he had with Hadrael, the times with the others... He remembered the sorrow he felt as one by one, they were taken from him. His friends and comrades, his home, and then Hadrael.
His grip tightened on his swords. He remembered lying bloodied and helpless as he heard the sounds of Nebiros, one of his childhood friends, killing the people he came to love and respect. Barachiel then recalled watching the descrated monastery erupt in holy flames, burning to the ground in front of him. And last, he remembered Hadrael dying in his arms, he felt like a child again, and even though Hadrael was dying, he still reassured him that everything would be okay, just like he had before.
Barachiel moved both his swords to the same hand and placed his palm against the strong bark of the thriving tree. Michael's words came back to him as the MagnaAngemon created the tree in the stead of the mission's ruins.
/-/
"The Host deals not in destruction," Michael said, feeling as the roots of something pure took hold in the earth. "In the beginning when the universe bloomed all was Chaos, there was no Thing. And God filled it with pure creation, with every thing. That is the nature of the Host, pure Creation, and the safeguarding of its wonder." Something in the earth drew his eye. "Now watch."
\-\
"Pure Creation," Barachiel echoed, feeling the bark against his hand. He closed his eyes and bowed his head.
"Creation..."
His mind raced inside his composed exterior.
Questions of morality, God, the Holy Host, the truth of God's intentions, Mephistopheles, Kheprius, Caradoc, Nebiros and Sabnock, Dracula, anger, vengeance, his past, his parents, his homes, Hadrael. These pictures and topics all bombarded his plagued mind.
"A tree of Creation..." he spoke, his voice eerily calm and ethereal.
"My mom and dad... My first home... My friends... My brother... My faith... My new home... My new life... Caradoc... And Hadrael..." he spoke, staring up at the tree.
"I've lost everything..."
He took the Royal Meister beam swords in his hands.
"And a single damn tree is all there is to show for it!" he snapped.
He let out a yell and started hacking the beam swords into the bark of the tree furiously. The swords entered and exitted the wood sending bits of bark and sap flying each time the blades left the tree. The insect roared in pain, anger and frustration as he chopped away at the tree of Creation.
All the emotions that had been bottled up over the past many days flooded forth. They were the emotions that he tried to temper and keep at bay. The emotions that he didn't know what to do with without Hadrael's words of wisdom and advice. He had become lost within himself. And he hated it.
The grunting and yelling continued with each slash across the tree's trunk. He almost felt like, if he kept hitting the tree, everything that he lost might come back to him. But he knew that wasn't true. Barachiel just continued venting his fury and sadness, carving the tree with his beam swords...
Tears started emerging in Barachiel's eyes the more and more he lashed out at the piece of nature. Finally, his arms grew weary. With a final roar, Barachiel threw the Royal Meisters off to the side, where they landed in the grass.
Barachiel finally broke down. He fell to his knees, sobbing and banging his fists bloody against the chopped up bark and wood in front of him.
"Hadrael... Father..." he wept, hugging the tree as it bled sap. His fingers gripped the insides of the hot grooves carved in the trunk. "I... I don't know what to do... I'm so sorry..."
The insect digimon pressed his forehead against the tree and felt the power of pure Creation against him. He felt its embrace. He felt his soul being warmed and comforted. For a split second, he felt as if he was with Hadrael once again, like the Angemon had just told him some words of repose.
"It's going to be okay, Terrak..." he remembered him say...
"I want to believe you," Barachiel thought through his tears.
"Terrak," Kheprius' voice spoke from behind him. He wasn't really sure what to say to him.
Barachiel slowly rose to his feet, not turning around as Kheprius grew closer. He raised his hand and wiped the tears away from his face. "I'm just about done. Please wait for me at the treeline," he said, his voice composed.
Kheprius nodded a bit and turned around, flying back the way they came. Barachiel watched as all the sappy wounds and blemishes on the tree began to heal over.
"Pure Creation," he thought. Barachiel looked down at the sap clinging to his hands and body. He placed a hand back on the tree, feeling its power once again. "Hadrael, I promise I'll try to remember everything you have taught me. I want be a digimon that you would be proud of."
He turned away from the tree and started walking after Kheprius. When he reached the treeline, he looked over his shoulder at the tree. Barachiel and Kheprius then tried to make their way back to Anatolia...