PARAGON
Remnants of the Great War Arc [38]
Chapter 47 : Remnants of the Great War
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How much time had passed, Azett could not say. The unceasing ringing in his ears and skull-splitting agony in his head prevented him from even using the Plate to find out. All he could do was inhale and exhale, each breath confirming that he was still alive. The fact that he couldn’t even tell what orientation his body was currently in was probably cause for concern, but anytime he thought of anything besides breathing, a wave of nausea would well up within him.
What eventually broke him from his hellish reverie was a new scent. Along with his sense of sight, hearing, and touch, Azett had thought he’d lost his sense of smell too. But a metallic, smoky smell began to waft into his nostrils, filling him with something other than ruin. It tickled the insides of his nose, and he crinkled it involuntarily.
With his sense of smell, his other senses swiftly returned as well. He felt sharp gravel pressing into his face, and he realized he was lying on the ground, of course. His limbs were sprawled out, and he began to feel a faint heat against the backs of his hands like a fire was nearby.
That was enough for him to act. Testing himself by moving his leg a bit, he eventually rolled over. Another wave of nausea assaulted him, but while he waited for it to pass, he kept his eyes open. Everything was still blurry, but he could make out general splotches of gray and brown around him. After several more minutes, he sat up in one swift motion, then stood up, before his body could protest.
His hair fell in a tangled mess around him, and his clothes were in tatters. He stood shakily, like a newborn, as he took in his surroundings.
The sky rumbled as if threatening to fall. As far as Azett could see, over hills and within valleys, all he saw was desolation. Lonely flames burned between a seemingly endless expanse of fallen human bodies and spiky tree stumps. Dust coated everything and wafted down in flurries like snow.
Yes, he remembered now. He was in Rota. For right ahead, at the center of a lake, which now reflected an utterly gray sky, stood Cameran Palace. Dust covered the entire castle, yet it appeared undamaged among the silent battlefield.
Azett turned his head. North of the palace, the Tree of Beginning still stood, and unlike everything else across the monochrome vista, it was still limned in emerald and aqua, the only entity of color in sight.
What did this?
He asked immediately. And a moment later, he knew.
A twister of anguish spiraled to life within him, but somehow, he forced out another question. “What did they do?” he croaked aloud, fear and despair alight in his bloodshot eyes.
…
He sank to his knees, quivering. “No,” he moaned. “No…no, no, no…
He looked back up at the glimmering Tree. Tears fell from his eyes, and he remained paralyzed. Unable to move. Unable to accept.
Rota was not the only land swallowed in desolation. A similar view graced the face of continents across the world.
No, those views were far, far worse.
Kalos was gone. His entire kingdom. Everyone in it, dead. Everything, returned to zero.
The Paragons had already come and gone.
He had failed.
Hours later, even when he was hauled up by some others, a hood thrown over his head, Azett made no move to resist. There was not a single aspect of his being that was not irreparably shattered.
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The hood was ripped off his head violently, and light flooded his eyes, causing him to squint painfully. Even before his vision had fully adjusted, he heard the low rumbling of speaking all around him, and he knew he was not alone. He tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but he found himself unable to, barricaded on all sides. That was when he felt a weight on his wrists. Iron shackles clanked noisily with his every move, and he glanced up again.
Through a greasy curtain of hair, he could see he was in some sort of chamber, and most of it was basked in shadows, save for where he was, due to a window on the opposite end of the room. A short ways away, people had gathered, arranged in some sort of audience, all dressed the same, and they murmured to themselves as they observed him. Their eyes cast a myriad of emotions at him: disgust, anger, interest, arrogance.
After he’d been dragged off the battlefield at Rota, he’d been thrown in some dark, dank place to rot. Again, for how long, he couldn’t say, and he’d had no interest in finding out either. But just earlier, after having a hood thrown over him again, he was collected from that place and brought here.
“You stand before the gathered to face judgment for your crimes,” a voice rang out in front of him.
Azett followed the sound of the voice, and his line of sight disappeared into a raised dais that towered above the rest of the audience, darkened by the shadows near the top of the room.
A trial!
“King Azett, the crimes with which you are charged are far too numerous to list, and given the present state of the world, our time would be much better spent beyond this chamber, so I’ll make this as brief as possible.”
“Wait!” Azett demanded, lurching forward. But before he could even finish taking a step, nearly tripped over himself. He hadn’t even noticed, but his ankles had been shackled as well. It was only now that he noticed he’d been placed in a narrow iron cage, barely big enough to contain his upright form, with only the space in front of him open to address the gathered. “Is it true?” he said, his voice hoarse. “About Kalos… About the world?”
“So, word has reached you, then. Yes, everything you’ve heard is true. Kalos is gone. Galar is still in flames. Unova has been reduced to rubble, save for the capital. The Hoenn continent has been razed, and even Tohjo did not escape unscathed.”
Azett's throat ran dry, and he coughed. After his coughing spell ended, he looked frantically around the room, at all the gathered, but they simply gazed back, not a hint of amusement on any of their faces. Furiously, he turned back to the one who seemed to be the judge. “If what you’re saying is true, then the death toll must be in the millions! No, hundreds of millions!”
There was a silence. But it was soon filled. “That’s correct. Though the number of dead continues to rise even now.”
Horror filled Azett from his skin down to his organs. Even though the Fairy Plate had never failed him, he still clung to the hope that it was wrong. Perhaps he was misinterpreting it. Maybe he’d hit his head during the war. But now, someone else was confirming it. And the expressions of everyone else in the chamber proved it was no lie or jest. “But that’s…” he breathed.
“I’m not sure what you thought would happen when you built that weapon of yours. Don’t look so sullen now, your Grace. This is the future you desired, is it not?”
Azett jerked up. “What?! My weapon! My weapon did not cause this! It was the—“
“Let us return to the matter of your judgment,” the voice boomed. “As it happens, that weapon of yours still has yet to be found. Though reducing the severity of your punishment is utterly out of the question, it may behoove your damned soul to reveal its location all the same, should you desire any restoration of your karma. If that look on your face is genuine, then surely you’d surrender its location, so that that foul thing can be purged from this world.”
“Wait! Just stop!” Azett demanded, his shackles clanking. “The weapon was never used! This…this apocalypse…it could never be caused by my weapon!” He frowned. “Who are you?”
This trial is a sham! The Guardians are pinning the destruction of the Paragons on me!
Azett heard the creaking of wood up on the dais, and a shadowy figure stood, each step echoing through the chamber as he moved into the light.
Azett’s eyes widened, and he could not stifle a gasp. “You…!”
“This trial is proceeding under my jurisdiction. Surely you have no complaints, O King of Kalos. As you can plainly see, I am no Guardian.”
Though Azett had never seen this man before, much less met him, he knew him all the same. Everyone did. And even though he hadn’t asked it, the Fairy Plate whispered his identity into Azett’s consciousness as loud as a firecracker.
This was the Hero of Kanto.
His face was bereft of any defining features, and as such, Azett couldn’t immediately tell how old he was. From so far away, he could've been younger, the same age, or even a decade older than him, and Azett wouldn't have been surprised either way. He wore a simple tunic and nondescript cape, yet his presence commanded authority, even from the likes of a king and Platebearer like Azett.
Azett swallowed.
“You should consider yourself lucky, your Grace,” the Hero continued, in that regal timbre. “When the Guardians found you, most of them wanted you executed immediately. It is only by the grace and mercy of Rota’s crown that you still draw breath.”
Azett’s face seized. “Aaron,” he spat.
The Hero’s eyes narrowed. “No. It was Queen Rin’s decision. King Aaron is dead.”
…
“Huh?”
“King Aaron is dead,” the Hero repeated, his voice reverberating through the chamber. “Did you not hear about that part? He sacrificed his life to the Tree of Beginning to protect our world from the annihilation that nearly engulfed it in its entirety.”
Azett was stunned speechless. “…Dead…?” he repeated after a sustained silence.
Not only have I lost my kingdom and my people, but even my archenemy…and best friend…
The chains clasped around Azett’s limbs clinked as he slumped in place. The world was saved… Part of it, at least. Anger curled onto his face. Rota didn’t suffer any damage! His teeth grinded together and he clenched his fists, but a moment later, his body loosened and went slack. What does it matter? The Paragons were repelled. Yet they took everything from me all the same.
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“Deliberations concluded before you even step foot in this hall, and we are not as merciful as the good Queen Rin” the Hero said, invading Azett’s poisonous depression. “King Azett, you are sentenced to death by order of this court, effective immediately. We’ve already culled a number of your cohorts and collaborators. Now, all that’s left is to remove the head of your blood-soaked regime.”
The crack of the gavel echoed throughout the chamber, and when his shackles were unlocked, Azett collapsed to the floor.
“Get up!” he heard someone say, but he didn’t, so they dragged him on his knees out of the courtroom, back into the dusty miasma outside. With each passing second, Azett fell further and further into empty agony. Tears fell from his eyes like icy snowflakes, and the lump in his throat felt like hot lead, threatening to burn through his neck and spill his blood on the ground below. His entire body felt numb. Pain, or even torture, would’ve been preferable to the nothing he felt now.
It didn’t even bother him that they were pinning responsibility for the war on him. Aaron would be venerated as a hero for certain. But only by those that were left. And he would be remembered as the villain who caused such annihilation. Or maybe he wouldn’t be remembered at all. They’d burn his name from their histories and forbid anyone from speaking a single positive word about him.
With the Hero in charge, which it appeared he was, that was certainly possible.
He welcomed this execution.
He’d had enough. His fight to protect the world from the Paragons, and the war that had proceeded. He’d lost them both, and losers only deserved ignominious deaths.
Before he knew it, they’d gone back inside somewhere. It was different from where he’d been held before, but he was back in a cell. It stunk of mold, and his carriers dumped him on the damp floor before closing the rusty door behind them with a harsh screech. And then, after they’d gone, it was silent once more, leaving only that noxious odor to keep Azett company.
You said effective immediately, Hero. Must you make me wait for my peace?
Hours passed.
“Azett.”
He jerked up. He knew that voice. Even though he hadn’t heard it in six years.
Azett stood, the heaviness weighing upon him clattering aside like boulders. He glanced feverishly around his tiny cell, bathed in darkness, throwing himself against the bars in an attempt to see further down the hall he’d been taken down. “Aaron! Where are you?”
“I am not here. I’ve been reduced to nothing more than a voice.”
“They…They told me you were dead!”
“Effectively, I am. It will take centuries for my body to recover, even slumbering within the Tree.”
A relieved smile almost danced upon Azett’s face, but his face froze before it could, and it quickly twisted into a sneer. “Why did you come here?”
“Obviously, I came to talk to you.”
“If you expect me to apologize for anything I did, I won’t!”
“I didn’t come here for that. The war is over, and both of us are dead to the world. And I have no interest in discussing the reasons behind this or that action with an enemy.”
An enemy. Yes, that was what they were to each other.
“I can’t hold this form for much longer. Even this preamble will have added years to my recovery, I suspect. But I had to speak to you one last time, before your execution.”
“Out with it, then,” Azett growled.
There was a pause before Aaron spoke again.
“I’m sorry.”
Now Azett truly wanted to laugh, but he swallowed it, letting it boil within him.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t show you another path. I’m sorry I let you face the Paragons alone.” Another pause. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t save Kalos. I’m sure you have it in your head that I let it be destroyed on purpose, but I truly—“
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Azett spat. “I am—I was the king of Kalos. Its safety and prosperity was my responsibility. The same for the Paragons. Everything I did, I did of my own volition. Do not think so highly of yourself, Hero.”
After a prolonged silence, Aaron spoke again, though his voice was markedly quieter. “Fine. Goodbye, Azett.”
“Wait.”
Azett stalked over to the corner of his cell and sank down. Black anger burned in his eyes. “Promise me one thing. These laurels you’ve obtained for yourself. Your heroic title. Your precious Guardians. If you want to do just one thing for me, you will leave them all behind. Left with nothing. Just like me. Do you hear me? You saved nothing. You didn’t stop the Paragons. Nor did you win the war. This world still tasted annihilation, even with your paltry interference. Promise me you’ll divest yourself of this world. This grateful world, or the remnants of it, will never impose a punishment on you, so I will. Never show your face again. Disappear into the annals of history and let the next generation shoulder our mistakes. We’ve tried to correct fate more than enough. Promise me all this. It will take you centuries to return? So be it. I’ll be watching you. Don’t think I won’t be.”
There was no immediate response. At first, Azett thought he’d already left, but there was a response, even weaker than the last.
“I promise.”
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Land of Rota, present day
“Argh!” AZ roared, and a shockwave of gale winds burst out from around him, forcing both Ash and Aaron back. Blood ran from cuts across his whole body, yet his agile movements did not suggest he’d been damaged in the slightest.
Ash landed on knees, and a moment later, Pikachu flew back and landed on his shoulder deftly, quickly turning to face the raging giant.
“You betrayed me!” AZ screamed, jabbing his finger at Aaron with every enraged word. “When I was on the cusp of battle against the Paragons, you declared war on me! The world fell to ruin because of you! How dare you play the hero!” He stomped toward Aaron, flipping his massive Fairy Plate sword in his hand, jagged and terrible. “You were supposed to suffer, like I suffered! Did you forget your sins, that you would so quickly condemn me for mine?”
It felt like hot lead was running through Ash’s veins, now that he’d been using the power of the Electric Plate for so long. Yet he forced himself to his feet all the same. It seemed that the more damage AZ took, he only grew angrier and more unhinged. More dangerous. Conversely, Sir Aaron appeared to be weakening. He hadn’t yet stood after being pushed back, and his Mega Lucario eyed him in concern, flicking his attention between his master and his enemy.
“Ha.”
AZ’s face twisted into a confused snarl.
“Ha ha. Hahahahaha!”
Sir Aaron stood, the falling rain casting a shadow over his face. Then he looked up, and a flash of lightning above illuminated his face for a moment, showing a wide grin, his teeth clenched nearly to the point of breaking. “I betrayed you? Is that right?”
A lance of Aura flickered to life in his palm, before flaring to life and solidifying into a gleaming sword, brighter and bigger than all the others he’d made throughout the fight. “I’ve never heard of something so funny in my life.”
With each step he took, puddles of water and mud splashed and sizzled against his ankles. “Oh, there was a betrayal alright. I’m not denying that.”
Aura exploded into life around him in a nova, blowing his spiky hair around wildly, his entire form eclipsed in a blinding light. Ash covered his eyes instinctively, but just before he did, he saw Aaron blitz forward, cratering the ground beneath him.
“IT WAS YOU WHO BETRAYED ME!” Aaron roared, slamming his sword down on AZ.
AZ crumpled beneath Sir Aaron’s attack, grunting as he barely caught the weight of the slice on his sword. His knees hit the ground, and an effulgent light burst forth from the impact, a glassy cacophony reverberating out from the clearing. Swiftly, AZ moved his other hand to brace the blade of his sword and Aaron bared down on him, fury smoking on his face.
“I wanted to save the world together with you!” Aaron yelled. “I could never do it myself, and I never did! You don’t think I feel the weight of all that blood on my shoulders every day?! It cost me my body and soul just to use the Tree of Beginning to scare them off early before they could destroy everything!”
Aaron swung his sword with all his strength, and the ethereal material of their two blades grinded against each other painfully, before Aaron launched AZ back, sending him flying into a stout tree. But he didn’t let up, leaping forward again to catch him before he could stand.
“For all your talk of such a noble purpose, you never ended up using all that power and strength for anyone but yourself!”
“What did you say,” AZ growled, his face inches from Aaron’s as he exerted himself against the Guardian King’s merciless assault.
“You knew of the Guardians’ dream! Of my dream! And you spit on it all! One hundred thousand pokémon, dead!”
“I did what I had to do to protect this world!” AZ snarled, forcing Aaron back just enough that he could regain his composure. “Your filthy dream is what nearly brought about the end of the world!”
“Oh, you do enjoy deluding yourself, don’t you?” Aaron spat. “How else could you have convinced yourself that you’re actually the hero?”
“I wear no such mantle! One hundred thousand was a paltry sum for salvation. I’d do it all again!”
Aaron’s glare deepened, and he surged forward, thrusting his sword into AZ’s shoulder, and the giant howled, retching himself free in an instant before he could be impaled. Pure hatred blackened his eyes, and, hunched over as he was with all the blood dripping off his skin, he no longer even looked human.
“If you truly wanted to defeat the Paragons, you should have slaughtered a million pokémon!” Aaron roared.
Ash’s mouth stood agape as he watched the two men fight. Obviously, he couldn’t intervene, but had he just heard Sir Aaron correctly?
“No, even that would be too paltry as well!” Aaron said, circling toward AZ. “You should have killed a billion. No, perhaps even a trillion.”
AZ’s eyebrows twitched, as if unsure he was hearing Aaron right.
“Did you truly think the Aura of one hundred thousand pokémon would be enough to leave even a scratch on one of the Paragons? If so, you’re even more foolish than I thought.” Before AZ could interject, Aaron continued. “But no. I think you knew. I think you knew very well that your weapon had no chance against the Paragons. The only reason you created that ghastly thing was to assuage your own fear.”
AZ roared and charged Aaron, swinging his blade in a wide arc, but Aaron easily sidestepped.
“Poisoned by fear, you used the Plate to create that weapon just so it’d be strong enough to destroy a coountry! Say, Rota! And you convinced yourself you did it for the greater good! Isn’t that right? You said you never used the weapon during the Great War, right? But according to you, the war never ended. And now, that weapon has been pointed at Rota instead!”
AZ swung his sword wildly, but Aaron dodged or deflected each one with ease, zipping into AZ’s blind spots as he continued his spiel.
“Why else would you create such a thing, if not to destroy your rivals on the world stage? Do you think anyone ever truly bought your heroic justification? You’re nothing but a butcher! And a maniac, who’d use Arceus’ divine power to bring an abomination like that into this world just to satiate your own fears! By busying yourself in a war with the Guardians, you spared yourself of any thought about the imminent arrival of the Paragons!”
“SHUT UP!” AZ bellowed, slamming his sword down with horrid speed. But Aaron simply sidestepped, and the blade punctured the ground, rupturing earth and soil beneath them in a dark spray of debris. However, in an instant, AZ tore his sword back into the air and leveled it at Aaron. Six orbs of light flashed into existence around the hilt in the shape of a crescent moon, and with a squeeze of his fist, they fired a barrage of light forward.
Aaron flipped and rolled between them, somehow dodging every single ray of lethal light that streaked toward him in a grinding burst. AZ’s barrage was relentless, but Aaron narrowed the gap all the same, leaping forward to close the last bit of difference. “Now, the war is all that exists for you, isn’t it?” His blade crashed against AZ’s once more with a thunderous bang. “The very moment you broke free from your tomb of stagnation, you descended back into wretched bloodshed! You’ve carved all but one option from your soul! Everything that made you human, until now, only a monster remains! And now, whether it’s salvation or damnation, you can only find either on the field of battle! Isn’t that right? Huh?!”
Aaron’s blade caught one of the jagged grooves on the edge of AZ’s sword, and he twisted his wrist. Despite its size, AZ’s massive sword spun from his gnarled hands, whipping through the air and burying itself in the ground behind him. He grunted in surprise, and his yellow eyes widened as they found his nemesis.
“The war ends now! You will not shed one more drop of blood!” Aaron roared, blitzing toward him.
AZ whipped his arms in front of himself protectively.
“Oh, dear.”
Aaron halted in his tracks, a plume of dust billowing forward at his sudden inertia. His eyes went wide and a trail of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
Beside Ash, Lucario seized up in exactly the same way. Ash looked over in horror. A stream of blood ran from a dark slit in his chest, just above his iron spike. Directly over his heart.
The shadows thickened in front of Sir Aaron, and a black fog soon gurgled into existence. They solidified, wafting and molding into the shape of a human arm and hand, clutching a pitch-black dagger buried in Aaron’s chest. As the shadows continued to fall away, the rest of his form was revealed.
“Not that I ever doubted your strength, but challenging the King of the Aura Guardians and a fully-fledged Platebearer at the same time may have been a tad foolish, your Grace.”
Zagreus pulled his shadow knife from Sir Aaron’s body, and the Guardian King coughed, before stumbling forward. Zagreus then turned to face his old master and bowed. “It’s been three thousand years, your Grace. It’s good to finally see you again.” The smirk he wore looked straight out of hell.
Next — Chapter 48 : Hero on Strings
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