I must admit, before I start this One Shot, that I don't like it. I've had others read it and say they love it, but personally, I think it is much too metaphorical.
I don't like reading such in-depth things, and I really don't see why I wrote it, either. But I decided to post it due to massive amounts of readers yelling at me. O.o
So saying, here it is.
Disclaimer: I don't own pokemon or anything but I do own my story. Also, I realize that this is an incorrect interpretation of the move "Perish Song", and I realize that and have purposely done this. If you wish to use my version, please ask me rather than steal it. I personally don't see why, but... Again, don't steal.
Rating: Pg. Meh.
The dreary winter clouds lay heavily upon the horizon, where the last light of the setting sun highlighted their edges, gilding them in golden sunshine. A wind blew from the east, causing the last hardy dandelions to bob in the wind, until a strong gust bowed them into submission.
Soon, so soon, the hour of twilight would be upon the land. Soon, so soon, the clouds building up would break, throwing the landscape into a dreadful storm.
But not yet.
The grass, winter brown, swayed in the breeze as well, and the gently rolling hills that covered the plain sheltered small tufts of green on their lee side.
Next to one hillock, a single daisy had remained, a late bloomer, a strong soul to face the might of winter. Her yellow face gazed upon the horizon with worry, her slender petals casting long shadows upon her golden face. And upon that nearby hillock stood a single figure.
Her long, white fur ruffled in the breeze, her crimson eyes glinted in the final rays of the dying sun. Twelve long, obsidian claws dug into the turf at her feet, an obsidian scythe paralleled her head, glistening as though wet, sharp as a razor.
She sighed gustily, her breath pushed back into her face by the wind that was slowly picking up from the east. Her face, black and framed by a long white mane that was swept off to one side by the wind, was a picture of distress and sorrow.
Her very presence signified that the storm was coming. Storms were always coming, somewhere or another, but this Absol had been waiting for this one for a while. This one was special.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, just as twilight came upon the land. The Absol could see the storm approaching, hear it approaching, feel it approaching, as though it was a very part of her deepest being. A part of her soul.
Her very shattered soul.
The first drops of rain pattered the ground, and the Absol turned her face to the sky. A single droplet landed on the round, smooth, black patch on her forehead, slipping off into her silky fur. She waited.
The rain fell harder, and still she waited.
A rustle and a thump jolted her out of her trance. She turned around, the wind now whipping her mane into her face. She peered through the milky white curtain to espy a human laboring against the wind, a very wet, unhappy Arcanine at his side. Absol made no sound, no move, waiting for the unfortunate moment of them noticing her to occur.
Within moments, it did.
“Hey, Arcanine, look at that! Isn’t that an Absol?”
The words meant nothing to her, nothing at all. Perhaps they might have, once upon a time. But Absol didn’t care anymore. She peered at him out of her ruby eyes; broken, beaten.
The large, cream and fire striped dog looked at her incredulously. Obviously, he hadn’t expected to find anyone else out here, except him and his apparently crazy trainer.
“Arcanine, let’s battle!”
Now the dog turned his head to give his trainer the same incredulous stare, the spiky, cream colored fur that framed his face whipping across his face madly in the howling wind. As a fire element, he would obviously be at a disadvantage in the rain. Didn’t the boy know that?
Apparently, the young boy didn’t care. Holding on to his red and white hat with one had, so as not to let it fly away, he pointed at the stony faced Absol with the other, ordering, “Go, Arcanine, Bite!”
Immediately, the large hound sprang forward, catching the unsuspecting, and up the this point unmoving Absol by surprise.
Her eyes widened momentarily before she sprang nimbly to the side with catlike reflexes.
She didn’t have time for this, she didn’t have time for this.
The storm was quickly approaching a climax, and she needed to finish her business. The gale force winds caused her eyes to stream, although perhaps they did of their own volition, as she landed behind the Arcanine, facing the wind.
“Turn around Arcanine, Flamethrower!”
The Arcanine whipped around to face her, his eyes glowing as he drew in a deep breath.
She didn’t have time for this.
But he released his pent up breath, a thick stream of fire blazing towards her. Again, she dodged, just in time.
I don’t have the time for this. Please, stop this nonsense, she pleaded, becoming more and more desperate.
Her quick mind racked through her choices. She could just run, but they might chase her. And besides, this was the place she needed, that very special hillock with the single flower next to it. Or she could just...
Ah, yes. The loose ends in her mind clicked together, and the guiding hand of fate gave her the tiny push she needed.
Her dodge had taken her back to the top of the hill, precisely where she wanted to be.
Please, leave. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into!
But by the look on the dog’s face, she knew she would just have to do it.
The reason she was here, the reason that she had chased this very storm across the country, the reason she had beat it just to get to this special hill, all converged upon her at once. And she gasped, but it transformed into a sob. She was always trying, but it was never good enough!
She didn’t want to do this to the Arcanine. Tears streamed down her face, warm as the rain was not. She didn’t want to do it to him.
But she had no choice. She could see that the young trainer boy was shouting orders at his Arcanine, but the wind ripped them from his mouth and shredded them, never having reached his target’s ears.
She glanced upwards, as if asking some heavenly being for assistance.
Absol slowly lowered her eyes from the heavens, where heavy grey storm clouds crashed in the sky, and locked them meaningfully on Arcanine’s own.
He froze. Her eyes, the color of blood, pierced his very soul, ripping a hole into his heart for her sorrow to seep through.
He wanted to comfort her, to warm her, to fix her broken heart. But he couldn't move. He was trapped in her ruby red gaze.
Softly, she began humming, under her breath, the rhythm and tempo matching the storm, highlighting it, accentuating it. Although she hummed quietly, Arcanine could hear it, as though the tune was vibrating through his very soul.
Lightning flashed. In the pause before the thunder, Absol drew in a breath, her humming stopped, the storm eerily silent, as if at her bidding.
And as the thunder crashed above them, she began to sing. This time, Arcanine could hear it distinctly, the trainer could hear it, the daisy could hear it. The very storm could hear her voice, and altered its song to match hers more perfectly;
The curse of fate is in my veins,
May the song of life course through me.
Another song, another dance,
Forever shall end, you see.
The grasses, the daisy, they bobbed their heads in the rhythm of the song. The trainer froze in his tracks. He had been about to pull out a round, red and white sphere with which to recall his Arcanine with. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He was as trapped in the spell as his Arcanine.
Her voice rose, louder and higher again;
Song of hope, life and freedom,
Death must learn to cope;
Life must run its courses,
For all in life must hope.
Another hour, another day.
The Creator creates the Destroyer.
For what purpose? you may inquire.
One begets the other.
Slowly, even as she sang, she began to move, off of the hill and onto the flat ground Arcanine stood upon.
In her descent, one of her paws crushed the bright little daisy, snuffing its life, condemning it to the darkness of death.
This time, she sang her song directly to Arcanine, her words meant for him, to comfort him, to appease him, to satiate him. Tears rolled down her cheeks, in synch with those on his;
The love we give,
the life we live,
the love we take,
I shall forsake,
This life in me,
Why can't you see,
Along with me,
So shall you be
Destroyed and yet Created!
Another moment shall come to pass
And to me I know you’ll ask,
Why me, why die, why not another day?
I am sorry dear one, will be all that I will say.
Slowly, the two circled one another as the song rose again, their eyes still locked on one another. Higher and louder, clearer, and all the more beautiful. They stepped in perfect synchrony, in time with the song and the storm. Clockwise, they stepped, gradually moving closer and closer as the song wound up to its final crescendo.
Again and again,
The days pass by
Again and again,
I lay down and cry
Again and again,
I wish it would stop
Again and again,
I try for not.
The storm circled around them, the Absol and the Arcanine, going counter- where they went clockwise. The eye of the storm, the eye of the cat, the eye of the canine, all were centered on this deadly dance, this deadly dance and song, obscuring it from the world and from the boy.
This is the end.
We shall now perish.
Hush, beloved, hush.
By killing you, I’m killing me,
Forgive me, forgive me.
This life is now too much to take.
Too much to take.
This life I now forsake!
In the flash of light before the darkness, the Arcanine understood. His fate, now so closely intertwined with that of Absol, was finally made clear to him. In his final steps, he realized his fortune, yet misfortune, his providence, and yet his demise. The two were so close their pelts brushed together, warm in the cold embrace of death.
My love... he spoke for the first time, still enraptured, yet no longer bespelled. This climax, this denouement, this fate. It was clear. Clear as the sky above their heads, where a single star glittered as the storm died out completely, moving on.
The boy shook his head to clear it and stepped forward, peering into the clearing of flattened grass which had so recently been obscured by a swirling vortex of violence.
In the clearing, the two bodies lay together, next to one another, sweetly.
A stanza of song silently rang through his head, like the echo of a bell chime, determined to last a moment longer than it should. Reassurance from beyond.
Hush, beloved, hush.
The boy stepped forward again, his sorrow clear on his face as he looked down upon his Arcanine, so peaceful in death, and the Absol, all traces of her immeasurable sorrow wiped from her face. Alone in life, together in death.
In the small space between them lay a single dead daisy.
This entire thing is a metaphor, which I will not reveal but will let you mull over. Please don't inquire as to what it is exactly. You can figure it out.
Merry Christmas! Go ahead and review and comment, but please, no harsh critisism. It's the holidays, and I don't want them ruined, whether I like this One Shot or not.