The Dark Side of the Moon [Darkrai & Cresselia]

[Cresselia]

A light-less midnight sky stretched infinitely above, stifling the world with shadow. The stars were nonexistent in wake of the endless darkness, and the heavens were hidden in folds of black. Shrouded in the foreboding veil of the night, the new moon was invisible, erased from the view of the earth as it reached the new stage of the lunar cycle. The air was quiet, undisturbed by the stirring of the wind. The grass did not move and the trees were motionless- not a single sentient being was awake as the hour of midnight passed.

A single beacon dimly lit the empty night from the height of the Old Tower. Cresselia was hovering silently at the tip of the desolate structure, her shimmering radiance like the diminished illumination of a weak lightbulb. There she had remained for four nights and three days, her resolution to and deep sense of regret eating away at her. Every thought summoned memories of wrongs she had done to him, and with every passing thought it felt like she would be smothered by her guilt.

Even as time steadily flowed past, she remained fixed in the same position, her red-violet eyes shining as she quietly gazed out into the dark evening sky. She had not moved, even to perform her nightly duties of healing people of their nightmares. For thousands of centuries she had placed her duties at the forefront of her existence. The Mistress of Dreams had always been there to restore peace to people suffering, and this was what she held pride in as the one thing she lived for. However, she had forsaken even this in her last attempt to find her counterpart. The lunar pokemon did not require dreams to sustain her life, as she did not 'eat' dreams, or even nightmares. The goddess lived through and gained her nourishment through the wishes, the happiness, and the dreams of humans and pokemon. It was in their contentment that her life had meaning, and only then that she gained the vibrant glow of life that made dreams beautiful.

Now the soft pastel colors of Cresselia's body were muted and the sparkle of her rings was gone. Her eyes were indecipherable as she looked out at the darkness from the tip of the tower. She would continue to wait in silence for the Lord of Nightmares. He was bound to pass through the North, and if he did she could only pray that she would notice when he did. Few people passed through the desolate terrain, so she had little fear of being attacked by trainers, not to mention the height she had settled at prevented practically any interaction with anyone.

Inwardly, she fidgeted and writhed with shame, anxious and horribly nervous. None but Mespirit would have realized the conflict of her emotions, as she had complete composure and control over her emotions outwardly, a trait she had gained in time that had often aided her in her healings. Unfortunately, as lord also of negative feelings, it was quite likely that Darkrai too would notice the mental conflict.

With each passing day, the moon had waned up until this evening, at the point where it was now completely vanished. The lunar swan sorely missed the comfort of the glowing orb, however slight it had been. Cresselia reflected inwardly how such a small thing could make her heart ache for want of company. How then could she even begin to imagine how deeply her counterpart had ached- how deeply he was scarred after centuries of cruel treatment- with so many things to cause him anguish? Every person save his own creator had wished him dead. While he had never attempted to harm anyone through the mental illusions that were his commission, the rest of the world had tormented him and hunted him until he was forced to strike purely in self-defence.

Was it really so astonishing that he had become twisted and vicious, like the enemies he was forced to fight hour upon day, day upon night, year upon century?

How could Cresselia, a creature who had scarcely known suffering, begin to make amends for what she had done to him? She knew to do so was impossible. Despite knowing this, she had sworn that she would deliver the apology that Darkrai was owed, if only to grant him the small satisfaction of utterly rejecting it. She had ruined his life, and owed it to him to offer a chance to return the favor.

[Darkrai]

In the millenia Darkrai had spent wandering planet Earth, he had slowly become accustom to the fact that there were certain universal constants at play in the world. These were facts of life, and the odds of them changing or not happening were so minimal that people swore by them. Gravity creats a distortion in space around large objects that draws smaller objects into the distortion like marbles into a funnel. E=MC squared: no matter the reaction, the totaly amount of matter and energy is never altered. Cresselia performs her nightly duties without fail regardless of any possible obstacles that might attempt to stand in her way.

The first night that Darkrai failed to encounter her was just like any other night that he failed to encounter her, so he thought so little of it that the event didn't even register as something to think about. the second day, however, he grew marginally more suspicious, though he still did not attribute much weight to it. The third night, however, was confirmation beyond a shadow of a doubt that something was afoot, and if it involved his counterpart Darkrai was intent on knowing what.

By the time he realized that she was not active that night, his duties were nearly over. Abandoning the remainder of his 'timetable', he began to scour the globe for her. An hour later, he had located her at the top of the Old Tower of Remoor's dead northern territory. For the remainder of the night he had watched her, not comprehending what he was seeing. That evening had been the night before the new moon, the time when she always prepared her finest defenses for the trials that would await her the next night. However, as far as Darkrai could tell she was making no preperations. In fact, she seemed to be doing nothing at all, simply hovering at the tower's peak and looking around as if seeking something. Evening when morning broke, as Darkrai departed she still did not leave her post.

Now, this fourth evening she was once again at tower's appex, the luminescence from her glowing figure the only source of light beneath the swallowing darkness of the new moon. This night, the one night out of all others that she should be most active if only to lessen the suffering that Darkrai would unleash, she did nothing but wait and look for something. It was simply beyond the comprehension of the Lord of Nightmares.

He'd been observign her for the better part of two hours, trying in vain to acertain what she was planning. The only possible explanation that Darkrai could possibly muster, feeble though it was, was that Cresselia must be attempting to hatch some sort of plan that forced her to abandon her duties. However, after havign observed her carefully from a distance, Darkrai had failed utterly to acertain what she was plotting, and he was actually beginning to doubt that she even had a plan at all. Why then did she neglect the one duty she bore, the task upon which she staked her pride?

Moving silently from his position behind a large, ornate angel statute that served as a grave marker, Darkrai flew directly at the side of the tower, melting seamlessly into the darkness upon contact. Upwards he climbed at an incredible speed, becoming level with his polar opposite in but a few seconds.

Her back was to him, so Darkrai blossomed silently from the darkness, the better to observe his eternal adversary. This close he could see the slight muting of the normally bright colors that adorned her fair figure. The new moon drained her of her power even as it added to his own, blunting and dulling her abilities and her appearance. She seemed almost sickly, as though the aura of darkness was a plague born upon the wind, and she its only victim. She would not be difficult to master if the 'interregation' that was about to take place got out of hand.

Quietly, Darkrai stole forward, being incredibly careful not to make any sudden movements that might draw he attention to his presence and thus ruin his ambush. Slowly, painstakingly slowly the gap between them narrowed, but finally he was within arm's reach of her and she was none the wiser. He slowly extended his right arm, his visible eye glowing with cold triumph as his cruel claws moved to clasp her by the throat. His hand opened, preparing to clamp down like a vice and ensure that she could not hurt him, could not escape him.

Could not hate him.

Darkrai flinched visibly as the unbidden thought thrust itself upon him without warning, causing him to draw his arm away sharply as though burned. Silently he cursed himself for his weakness. These thoughts, these pathetic sentamental desires held no benefits for him. They served only as a detriment in the face of an adversary who would slit his throat given the first glimmer of a chance. He had come too far, grown too much, and suffered agonies to great to succumb to foolish longings.

No matter how much he wished it.

Again, the unwelcome thought struck Darkrai as a physical blow, but this time he did not chase it away with petty rationalities. Try though he might he knew that, to himself at least he could never deny the feelings that he had somehow developed for Cresselia despite all the suffering she had put him through, not to mention his own monumental hatred of her. The sensation was extremely confusing to say the least, but somehow things had developed this way, and despite every reason not to the feelings had only grown stronger over time.

And now, when Darkrai was so close to her that he could simply reach out and touch her, he wondered how he had ever felt anything else for her, her crimes against him lost in a vague fog that he could not explain. Even diminished though she was, her form was still beautiful. the soft pastel blue of her back, the gentle yellow gold of her underbelly, the soft, almost intangible wings that curved gracefully across her figure.

It was with a sudden jolt that Darkrai realized his hand was moving seemingly of its own accord. He yanked it back swiftly before it could make contact with Cresselia's wing, which it had been on the verge of doing. Even as he did so, his insides boiled with regret. He did not understand these feeling he had, but he could not deny their strength, or their temptation.

This time Darkrai reached out his hand voluntarily, his fingertips just an inch from tenderly brushing against the soft, velvety surface of Cresselia's wing. Every instinct in his mind rebelled, warning him against the foolhardiness of his actions, and yet still he wished. How he wished he could look into those garnet eyes and see but a trace of the boundless kindness she bore for others. How he longed to touch her, to reach forward now when she was so close and embrace her gently, and not have her recoil or lash out, but to relish his touch, to accept him and love him back as-

He slapped himself mentally. Indulging in foolish desires would only bring him more physical and emotional pain. He needed to accept the world as it was before he drowned in his own idealistic fantasies. He needed to recognize the entity before him as his enemy if only so that he could muster the will to defend himself from her. the hand that had been about to stroke Cresselia's wing with a tenderness so utterly removed from the being exhibiting it instead lashed forward and clenched firmly around her neck with cruel tightness.

"Tell me what you are planning," Darkrai snarled coldly in her ear, all traces of sentimentality erased as the centuries old rage was forcibly rekindled, "and I may show you some mercy."

[Cresselia]

Darkrai's anticipated arrival was unexpectedly quick.

The swift tightening around Cresselia's neck caused her to cry out in pain. Darkrai’s ruthless umbra claws clenched down around her neck, pinching the flesh painfully. Had this physical attack not made her aware of her counterpart, the icy snarl that accompanied it certainly would have. His cold ferocity jolted her from her brooding thoughts and her deep regret. It reminded her forcibly of their relationship as bitter enemies, a relationship that was ferocious because that was how she had made it. Each time he recoiled, each ambush, each evil intention-while they may have existed before her, it was her influence and constant attacking that had increased their potency and intent to the extent they were now.

The celestial swan winced slightly but made no attempt to escape from her counterpart’s grip, instead tilting her crowned head unsuccessfully in an attempt to look back at him.

I plan to apologize to you. Her pink rings trembled imperceptibly as she spoke to him through telepathy. Assuming for a moment that he could find it possible to believe her, not only would he laugh with scorn but he was even more likely to ridicule her for her words- and for good reason. She had done nothing to merit his trust, nothing to even merit his recognition of her apology in the first place. It was completely out of the question.

Nonetheless, Cresselia forced herself to continue, but wavered slightly as she persisted almost hurriedly to avoid the reaction she anticipated. I realize that you have no reason to accept my apology, her voice rang across his mind, soft and mellow like the sweetest church bell. You have no reason to listen to me after the many centuries of pain I have put you through. She waited for his claws to tighten, waited for the interrogating growl to ask for the real reason she was waiting. I-I know I cannot ever hope to ask for your forgiveness, but if there is anything…anything I may do to even the smallest amount for my past actions…

[Darkrai]

Darkrai's grip around Creselia's neck was like a vice. She was afforded no room to move, and when she attempted to rotate her head to look at him he tightened his grip harshly, preventing her from moving in the slightest.

I plan to apologize to you.

That simply telepathic statement caused Darkrai to recoil as if he'd been doused in the face with acid. He resistd the urge to utter a guteral hiss as his hand jerked away from Cresselia so quickly one would think her neck hand ignited.

For a full twenty seconds Darkrai could only stare at the back of Cresselia's head with an unheard of expression of complete, dumbfounded shock. No, it was not possible. It simply was not possible. After everything she had put him through, everything she had made him suffer, she was not going to apologize to him. It defied more than logic. It was as if a universal law had been shattered before his very eyes, and his mind, so ordered around rules and logic, balked completely at what defied even basic common sense.

I realize that you have no reason to accept my apology. You have no reason to listen to me after the many centuries of pain I have put you through.

Slowly, Darkrai hovered out from behind her and circled the spot where she hovered until he was directly in front of her. His expression was utterly and completely inscrutable, his body still as stone and betraying not a glimmer of his thoughts. Then, without warning he drew his arm past where his ear would be and backhanded Cresselia across the face. An instant later his face was an inch from hers, the point of a razor-sharp claw pressed firmly at her throat.

"If you ever dare," he seethed in a voice that dripped with boiling, burning rage, "to insult me like that again, I will kill you where you hover." He lashed out with every intention of striking her again.

"How dare you?" he hissed with acid in his tone. "How dare you make such base assumptions?! You dare assume for even a moment that you can come before me, whom you have tormented beyond reason and description?! You dare assume that you have any idea what I have suffered because of you?!"

He was shouting now, his fury rushing out like the waters of a dam that has finally been broken. "You think that a few words will erase the lifetime of agony that I have had to suffer because of your selfishness?! You think that you can just black out millenia of pain and misery with a simple 'I'm sorry''?! If I had a mouth and a mucas gland I would spit in your eye!"

He fell silent, his eye narrowed with unadulterated loathing. However, while his outward appearance was nothing but hatred, his internal emotonal state was one of confusion, and a little uneasiness. He did not know where this suddenly vein of rage had come from, and he did not understand why it had decided to arise at the very moment when he might have what he'd desired for years: a chance to bury the hachet with Cresselia, a chance to no longer be enemies. A chance, perhaps, to be the very opposite.

But what even Darkrai himself did not know was just how deep the scars Cresselia had carved were. He'd been suppressing and ignoring his bitterness for thousands of years, and so had lost touch with it and no longer had a proper idea of its scope. This was the part of him that had silently raged at his aggressor for years, and now that it was being addressed directly it was not content to be silent and simply die out without having struck out at the person who'd engendered it.

[Cresselia]

Within an instant, Darkrai had released her like a burning coal leaving her free to move. But she did not turn after he had jerked away and continued speaking rapidly, praying he would not think of it as a trick. After the rushed torrent of her last words were finished, there was a long pause.

The empty, stagnant pause made the lunar swan even more uneasy. She began to tremble a bit, her shivering just barely perceptible unless one was looking carefully at her thin, pink veils. She began to turn, only to see that Darkrai was circling around to the front of her.

His expression was completely enigmatic. Her gentle eyes remained focused on him without indicating her troubled interior. What was he thinking? As one of those she could not read the mind of, ignoring the fact that she never would without permission, the only way she would ever find out was by his words and actions. Was he actually listening to her? He certainly had to have heard her or he would not have withdrawn his grip on her.

His movement drew her entire attention back to him as he raised a dark claw, and in an instant his hand struck her face. The powerful blow forced her head to the side, a dull throbbing igniting in her now dark golden, bruised cheek.

Darkrai was in front of her again, his white hair drawn over his right eye, his cyan blue eye narrowed in pure fury. His first words were not only cold, but filled with absolute loathing. That preceded yet another attack she did not make a move to avoid.

His shouting was overbearing, filled with loathing and hatred. It was not his characteristic volume, as he only very infrequently shouted when his plans went awry- his was the far quieter, more insidious tone. It was the frigid whisper that caused a shiver to race down one’s spine despite knowing the Lord of Nightmares was defeated.

Underneath, The Goddess of Healing could sense his pain. Not sense in the manner she could usually sense emotion from other pokemon and humans, but she knew that underneath his shouting that even if he did not know it himself, the cause of it was his pain. Suffering caused many changes in people, changes she had grown to know and recognize in her line of work.

Cresselia’s heart ached for him. It ached for the suffering she had caused, for the complete isolation he had been forced into, for the vicious attempts on his life in her blind hatred. The icy wall that had first surrounded him must have by now chilled him to the very core. His words were vent for his suffering, channeled through recognized outlets of hate and anger.

Oddly enough, Cresselia had no self-righteous voice telling her that he deserved it. Those days of justification were long past. In her first consideration of the depth of his suffering, she had justified herself with this thought. Over time she truly realized that no one deserved that treatment. And even if they did, who had appointed her to give it? That was his own domain, not hers. Hers was healing, and she had failed even in that. Now she was only filled with longing to help him. Forgiveness had not yet been entirely driven from her mind because an irrational hope seemed to cement it there, but it was so far pushed into the back of her mind that it was entirely unconscious. Her conscious desire lay only in making up for her sins.

{I...I wish you would...it is only what I deserve...} Cresselia wanted to say, but it seemed entirely inappropriate and could too easily be construed. His meaning was clear.

Cresselia was completely silent. She did not look at her counterpart, her gaze falling instead to the point of the tower beneath them. She appeared to be completely shaken. Any words she might have had in mind were now long gone, and it seemed just as likely that she would turn and drift away in shame.

But she stayed, silently hovering with her head bowed low. Why didn’t she leave? The source of his anger was righteous. He was under no obligation to listen to her. But he was still here, which meant that while he was furious, some part of him wanted to be here and listen. Perhaps merely so he might react or perhaps to scathingly deny any of her attempts at reconciliation. It certainly would not be etiquette that kept him.

I-I…

Cresselia stammered for a moment, then fell back to silence. She had given him reason for this fury, and he had every right to extract his revenge in what way he desired. No matter what happened, the least she owed him was a proper apology. It was why she had come, wasn’t it?

I apologize. I am sorry…so sorry…for everything. Cresselia’s voice was strong with her deep guilt and sadness. Her emotion was almost physically tangible in the words she spoke, despite her expression being surprisingly devoid of emotion. It is impossible for me to atone for my innumerable sins against you, just as it would be impossible for me to name each.

With every word, the lunar legendary pokemon grew more rigid, inwardly waiting for the lethal blow that the nightmarish wraith had promised.

I do not ask for forgiveness. I know well that I do not deserve it- but please, if I…if I can do anything. Anything to make up for anything I have done. Something…even the smallest thing…

Her voice breaking, Cresselia desperately groped around for something, anything to offer. She look beseechingly at her counterpart, and in that single instant her very heart was lain bear to him. Her shining eyes implored him to demand some retribution, pleading for him to do anything even if it meant destroying her if it would lessen anything of his pain. It was beyond the sadness of having forsaken her position, or knowing she had offended someone. All she wanted was to relieve his pain. Any of the unspeakable things he had suffered through.

But there was nothing. It was all a lost hope, and Cresselia realized in the very next moment that to hope was an exercise in futility, and she ripped her gaze from him, her eyes filled instead with despair.

There was nothing she could do- how had she ever been so insolent as to hope there was? If she could turn back the very wheels of time to start again, she would. But even the most powerful legends of earth were not granted free reign to ask such world-changing things. Changes as drastic as that would alter the course of time irrevocably. To do something of that great of magnitude was forbidden to all but Dialga and Arceus herself. Her life was worth nothing, or it would be the first that she would offer. It was a willful desire and a dream…a wish to repair even a little of that which she had broken or even faintly appease then one she had offended. A wish that deserved to be broken in the fashion she had ruined every one of his.

[Darkrai]

Much to Darkrai's surprise, Cresselia made no move to defend herself as he struck her not once, but twice. She made no move to so much as flinch out of his reach, and there was no sign of retaliation after either assualt. Thsi defied not only his expectations but natural instinct itself, and had he not still been consumed by an apoplectic rage this display of absolute submission would have been more than enough to convince him of the depths of Cresselia's sincere anguish.

Unfortunately, Darkrai's hatred demanded more than that. The depths of his soul burned with the desire, the need to exact every single second of his misery from her torn and bleeding hide, shattering her fragile and delicate mind with the full weight of the horror that had been his life for eternity.

Eventually the fire of his wrath receded enough to quiet Darkrai's shouting. Though still enraged, a modicrome of sense had returned to him, allowing him to think clearly again. He was now able to observe that Cresselia was no longer looking him in the eye, instead ashamedly watching the tower floor beneath them. Her eyes, or what little Darkrai could currently see of them, were brimming with shame and more than a little fright at his outburst.

"I-I…" she began, then lapsed into silence, apparently too shaken to speak any further. Darkrai fully expected that to be the entirety of their exchange, and was even half-expecting her to simply depart at that point. However, mustering some hidden well of resolve she started anew.

I apologize. I am sorry…so sorry…for everything. It is impossible for me to atone for my innumerable sins against you, just as it would be impossible for me to name each. I do not ask for forgiveness. I know well that I do not deserve it- but please, if I…if I can do anything. Anything to make up for anything I have done. Something…even the smallest thing…

She was babbling now, the words tumbling one over the other as if she were afraid that if she stopped he would make good on his promise to kill her. Her words were wrung thick with a penitance and guilt as thick and deep as a river. It was as if every hidden crevice or her soul was filled with true penitence and remorse for her trangressions against him.

Cresselia's sorrow gave Darkrai pause. He had never doubted the sincerity of her apology; Cresselia would know better than to trifle with such a delicate matter as this in that manner. But he had refused to believe that she could appreciate the level of misery he had suffered at her 'hands'. Now, however, he was not quite so sure anymore.

On a whim, Darkrai took the oppurtunity to give the air a 'sniff' and was nearly knocked out of the air by the thick, sweetly intoxicating scent of a sadness beyond description. His wrathful leer fell away to a look of uncertain disbelief, and he regarded her with an eye that seemed to be lit with the most preliminary stage of awe. He hadn't felt misery this boundless since the last time he'd gate crashed a funeral. It was as if she were greiving for the death of a loved one, and for the first time Darkrai was tempted to believe that she understood the undertaking she had set herself.

Almost every fiber of Darkrai's being wanted to let go of his anger in that second, to forgive her completely and end the misery festering withing her. His heart ached to know that this sadness was emenating from her, and in direct violation of every stature he had sworn to live by he wanted nothing more than to end her suffering, to heal her of this pain.

But it was not that simple. The hatred within him clung to his soul like pitch, and it refused to be dispalced so easily. Indignation and righteous fury demanded retribution for millenia spent alone, thrown out in the cold without any form of companionship at all.

'She must suffer,' it whispered, infecting him like a deadly poising, warping his thoughts and returning the cold gleam to his eyes. 'She must suffer as you have suffered...'

Cresselia's voice had broken in the midst of his musings, and her rambling apology had quietly trailed away into oblivion. Seemingly with a supreme effort she raised her eye to his again, and in that moment he could see straight into her soul. She begged him without words to exact his horrible vengance, to torture and mutilate her if that might ease his pain; even, perhaps, to kill her.

Tempting though all of that was to Darkrai, he knew full well that the last was not an option, at least if he still valued his life. His earlier threat of murder had been made in a blind rage. He knew full well that Arceus would in no way or capacity tolerate the willful murder of another Great One for any reason short of treachery, and she would respond with the offender's immediate erradication.

Darkrai's own eyes betrayed nothing of his thoughts to her. This was largely because he was unsure of what he wanted to think. His desire and hatred whirled within him like a hurricane, leaving him trapped in the middle of the battlefield with no clear direction to take. This in and of itself scared him, because he could not remember the last time he had ever been anything less than certain of himself.

Slowly, Darkrai reached forward a hand and took hold of Cresselia's throat. The gesture was not menacing, and his grip on her was firm but not painful. It was as if he was merely signing to her not to leave, that the exchange was not finished. Carefully, he drew her face closer to his own and began tilting her head gently, examining her face with scrutinous eyes.

"...do you realize what you are asking of me?" he asked finally, his eye peircing deeply into her own like a laser. "You are asking me, in short, to exact my revenge on you for your innumerable crimes against me. Have you any idea the scope of suffering you are asking me to place upon you? Even the smallest fraction of a punishment of that magnitude would shatter a mortal like cheap glass."

He released his grip on her throat, but his eyes never left hers. He probed her, searching for any form of insecurity, any lack of resolution. What she was asking for would break her in ways she didn't even know was possible. Even he did not fully understand the impact this might have on a person.

"I give you one chance to turn away now," he stated with terrible and absolute finallity. "You may take this moment to leave, and things will be as they were. We shall exist apart, not enemies, but nothing more than that. If you stay," he continued, "I will subject you to my life." He paused for a moment to allow that statement to sink in, then continued.

"I will subject you to every torment, every bit of suffering that I have ever felt at your hands to the best of my memory, and I have a long, accurate memory. Every ounce of pain, fear, anger, and misery I have been forced to endure throughout my existance because of you will be placed on you now in the space of a few minutes. If you do this, I may consider...your forgiveness."

[Cresselia]

Cresselia was not expecting the touch of Darkrai’s dark claws against her neck. However, the action itself did not surprise her, as he undoubtedly had a response to the offending words he had warned her against speaking. The lunar swan did not dare look at him, and her eyes were cast down as his claws firmly took hold around her neck. Just because they were not inflicting any violence upon her now did not mean there was an end to the possibility. When Darkrai spoke, he was always sure to be heard clearly when he wanted to. Any attack would either be verbal, or be wrought upon her after he had spoken.

Her counterpart did not move, but instead gently brought her head closer to his. His intent did not seem to be intimidation, for it would have been far more effective for him to invade her own space, not bring her into his. The movement was not forceful, but insistent as he carefully tilted her head to examine her face. Her soft violet-pink eyes did not meet his. There was a tentative silence in which Cresselia awaited Darkrai’s final words like a criminal anticipates the execution block.

“...do you realize what you are asking of me?"

His first words were not much different from what she had expected. What she did not anticipate was the words that followed them.

“You are asking me, in short, to exact my revenge on you for your innumerable crimes against me. Have you any idea the scope of suffering you are asking me to place upon you? Even the smallest fraction of a punishment of that magnitude would shatter a mortal like cheap glass.”

Darkrai’s reply was not vicious or resentful for her apology and her pleading. It was matter of fact. It sounded as if he was rationally and clearly explaining to her that the task to which she had set herself was insurmountable. Taking his suffering on to its full extent might be more than she could take. The chance of it being too much for her was more than possible, it was highly probable.

He released her, and the psychic swan hovered silently, gazing back at him with an expression that was so pained that it was clear that she had no words. Couldn’t he see that she deserved it? He knew with excruciating detail what she had done, better than anyone could ever possibly know. Whether it broke her to take on what she had given was not a factor in this equation. She deserved all the pain she had caused and more.

For every day since Darkrai had come his closest to being killed by Arceus, the psychic had always carried the searing memory of that single flash of his loneliness and pain that was channeled to her through Mespirit. The naive lunar swan may have attempted to force it back in her mind while she tried self-justification, but the fact of the matter was that such suffering was unnerving. Villains such as Darkrai were not supposed to feel pain. They were evil- it was the domain of evil to feel hurt. It should not unsettle her to see Darkrai in pain. He had deserved it- all those people and the hurt he had inflicted… It had taken her a long time to realize, but no one deserved that. The completed desolation and empty loneliness…the hostility…it was the extent of that small sliver of suffering that had slowly urged her to realize that things were not as black and white as her simple mind had accepted.

“I give you one chance to turn away now. You may take this moment to leave, and things will be as they were. We shall exist apart, not enemies, but nothing more than that. If you stay,” Cresselia could feel from the finality of his statements that this would be her single opportunity.

”I will subject you to my life.”

His words were so unreal that Cresselia dared not move, fearing that she might mistake his words because of the barest sound of her movement. He was offering the chance she did not deserve, an opportunity to satisfy even in small part, his revenge.

”I will subject you to every torment, every bit of suffering that I have ever felt at your hands to the best of my memory, and I have a long, accurate memory. Every ounce of pain, fear, anger, and misery I have been forced to endure throughout my existence because of you will be placed on you now in the space of a few minutes. If you do this, I may consider...your forgiveness.”

Cresselia was completely still. The suffering that his words encompassed was like the ocean. And it was entirely possible that she might drown in it. Despite her deepest desire to relieve his suffering, this was not to be taken lightly. The moon deity did not move, and her eyes hesitated for an instant as she carefully considered the enormity of his words. Her counterpart was offering her a single chance to escape the torment he had faced and completely break ties with him. They had always been enemies, and should she take refuse this opportunity, their relationship would be indifferent and no longer hostile, a step better than it had been for a long time. But if she should ignore the opportunity to escape, the pain would be enormous. However, she might actually relieve even the slightest bit of the negative effects of her actions against him.

Suddenly, Cresselia swallowed dryly as a thought thrust itself into her mind- it hurt to realize how completely she had failed. He, the deity of discord, was detailing exactly the pain he might cause her and he was even giving her the option to leave. She could feel her heart ache as she thought of how she had given him no such opportunity before she had forced pain and isolation upon him. And she was supposedly the goddess of mercy. It was no wonder why her counterpart had been so insulted by her apology. Even now she was no better, why was she even stopping to consider the decision? Why was she hesitating? If he was willing to offer her this chance, she owed it to him to take it.

Then she realized what had truly made her pause. Cresselia’s thoughts froze abruptly as the implications of his last sentence hit her. The possibility of forgiveness? It was not possible. Not only that, she was not worthy. She gazed warily on her counterpart, taking in his black satin skin and his silently fluttering hair. When she spoke, it was evident that she was choosing her words carefully.

You need not consider something like that. Cresselia spoke softly.

Cresselia now hovered resolutely in place, gazing deep into the piercing blue eyes which scanned her own. The dimness of her flesh was less noticeable if you looked at her eyes. Her desire to repair the damage she had inflicted was clear on their surface with a slight undertone of the lasting sadness she felt for her actions. If Cresselia could lessen his suffering…she would be willing to do anything.

[Darkrai]

Cresselia refused to meet Darkrai’s eyes as he calmly scrutinized her face, instead staring shamefacedly at his claws around her neck. Her portrayal of her misery had by now reached the point that had she been anyone else Darkrai would have assumed that their sadness was an act, at least partially. However, in her case he could believe that she could genuinely feel this depth of melancholy. By tormenting him, she had violated the very essence of reality that she had sworn, had been made, to uphold. He was fully aware himself that if he ever violated his own ‘prime directive’, his self-loathing would be almost boundless.

At first her expression did not change when he began speaking to her. It was almost as if she were expecting what he was going to say. However, as she continued to listen Darkrai might have thought he could see a small glimmer of surprise in what little of her eyes he could catch sight of. He released her, and then she managed to look up and meet his eyes, her own still brimming with that endless sorrow. She was begging him to break her, tear her asunder and destroy her utterly.

Her reaction to his proposition seemed incredibly minute at first. Her expression barely changed, and she made no movement or sound to suggest her acceptance or understanding. However, gradually Darkrai came to realize that her apparent indifference was in fact total shock. Well, he hardly blamed her. If she had even the smallest idea of the scope of what he was threatening her with, this reaction should be the very least she would experience.

Darkrai fully expected Cresselia to back down and leave at that moment. It would only make sense. Only a fool would willingly accept what he had placed before her. In fact, for a moment he wondered if he had deliberately made the price too steep just for the satisfaction of seeing her leave in disgrace. However, after a moment’s reflection he knew that this was the only compensation she could give him that would truly quiet his rage. Even so, there was no way that she would take it upon herself…

”You need not consider something like that,” Cresselia whispered in the tone of a person who does not trust themselves to speak without careful thought. Her words broke through the loop of Darkrai’s thoughts, and when he focused on her he saw her hovering resolutely before him, asking him to place the mantle upon her. Her eyes were no longer solely etched with sadness; now he could see in them a burning need to offer whatever pathetic balm she had to soften the sting of his scars. Darkrai paused for a long moment before responding.

“…if you truly have any idea at all of what you are about to experience, you would not need me to tell you that my forgiveness will be poor compensation for your sufferings,” he said quietly. For a moment he wondered if he should go through with his plan. The fact that she was accepting his terms, and without any sort of visible hesitation at that, suggested that she had no idea the burden she was about to shoulder. Darkrai was on the point of waving away the whole affair when he once again caught a glimpse of the truth behind her eyes: she didn’t have any idea what she was asking for, and she knew it too. The fact that she acknowledged this and was still willing to undertake it anyway caused Darkrai to question her sanity, but it was evidence enough that she was “prepared” for what she was about to endure.

After a moment’s pause to consider the mechanics of what he was about to do, Darkrai slowly placed his palms on either side of Cresselia’s face, staring directly at her with the solemnity of a judge about to render sentence upon the condemned. His form began to blur slightly, as though he was going out of focus. Gradually he became less and less distinct, eventually even growing transparent. When he finally seemed no more than a mass of black mist on the wind his body began to dissipate and travel up his arms, reaching the point of contact with Cresselia’s face and melting into her skin until he vanished entirely, completely absorbed into his mind.

-(000)-

The flowers were lovely this time of year. Well, they always were. Spring was always absolutely beautiful in this country. Darkrai reclined casually against the picnic basket, only mildly concerned at his slight lack of balance. Cresselia had set down her cluster of mago berries unfinished and was laying sideways across the blanket, watching the daisies sway in the gentle spring breeze.

“I was beginning to think today wouldn’t work out,” she commented idly. “Arceus has been very demanding of us lately. It’s been almost impossible to find any time for ourselves.”

“True,” Darkrai agreed, calmly squishing another custap berry in his hand and absorbing the sweet juices. “But nothing worth gaining was ever received without effort. Besides, it makes for a fine break. I can see why humans so look forward to these ‘picnics’. It does a person wonders to simply remove himself from all the stress of daily life. And with company such as I have, well…” at this he chuckled softly. “It’s only that much finer.”

Cresselia glanced at him and smiled, rising up to hover over next to him. “Thank you for inviting me here today,” she said softly. “I had no idea you were capable of such genteel demonstrations. It seems quite unlike you.” Darkrai picked up his wine glass and raised it in a mock toast.

“If there’s one thing you should know about me by now,” he said with a slight chuckle, “it’s that I’m full of surprises.” He held the glass to the space where his mouth would be and carefully allowed the wine to splash against his face and be absorbed by his skin, savoring the exquisite flavor. Still holding the half-full wine flute he opened the lid of the picnic basket and was on the point of extracting another custap berry when he saw something out of the corner of his eye that caused the wine glass to fall from his suddenly-limp fingers. Hovering about 30 feet to his left, glancing furtively about, was another Darkrai.

The scene immediately froze like an over-taxed program on a computer. Cresselia, the phantom Darkrai, the tumbling wine flute, everything was still as figures in a statue garden. Only the original Darkrai moved freely, looking slowly around the scene he was in with an air of growing comprehension.

It was all just a dream. A daydream, if one wished to be specific, since Cresselia was still very much awake. This was how it always began when Darkrai entered the mind of another. The easiest way for the mind to handle a new thought or mental anomaly was to amalgamate it into the already active mental scene and allow it to make its changes. Since Darkrai reduced himself to the identity of a thought when entering another creature’s mind, he was treated in the same way and incorporated into the mind as if he’d always been there. This resulted in him being integrated into an already active dream, and it always took a moment or two for him to reestablish his identity and take control.

Darkrai slowly began examining the scene that he’d found himself in, speculating and pondering the nature of what he was observing. Since he was capable of thought, the dream he found himself in was always a combination of his own thoughts and the thoughts of his host. How much of this dream was Cresselia’s? Considering what had transpired, he doubted she had contributed much beyond her ability to create positive thoughts. That was the only reason the dream had been in any way pleasant. Darkrai’s natural influence always gave dreams a negative twist even before he began exerting control.

The next object of Darkrai’s attention was the mental projection of Cresselia. This was obviously his own construction. Cresselia was currently plagued by doubt and self-loathing (or something close to it), and any mental creation she made of herself would outwardly reflect this negative opinion with some type of malformation. However, this manifestation of her bore not a single visible imperfection. In fact, as he observed her Darkrai actually marveled slightly at how much he evidently venerated her.

With a wave of his hand Darkrai consigned both the image of Cresselia and the picnic setup to oblivion, watching disinterestedly as they disintegrated into clouds of raw mental energy that further dissipated into nothing. He preserved the other image of himself, since he was fairly certain that it was a creation of Cresselia’s mind. He hovered closer, observing the immobile figure as an art critic observes a marble sculpture.

The manifestation before him was largely identical to himself, but there were evident differences which depicted Cresselia’s current impression of him. It seemed slightly more ragged and menacing, with slightly more dangerous claws and eyes. She evidently saw him as a dangerous creature not easily trifled with. However, further observation revealed that the construct’s ribs were prominent and its figure haggard, like a wild stray that has gone a long time without a decent meal. On a whim Darkrai reanimated the projection and watched with fascination as it balked immediately from him, leering menacingly but refusing to approach any closer.

‘She pities me,’ he thought to himself. It was like watching a feral dog. Most people would be afraid to approach it for fear of being harmed, but at the same time its fatigued and care-worn appearance invoked sympathy. Darkrai pondered it for a moment, and then cast it away as he had the other images, not sure what to think about what he had seen.

However, now was not the time to dwell on such things. Darkrai had come with a clear purpose in mind, and he intended to see it through. He was currently in the subconscious of Cresselia’s mind, but in order to do what he intended he needed to enter her primary consciousness. For a moment he hesitated, unsure of what he would find. He had never before entered a creature’s brain while it was still awake, and he didn’t know what he would encounter. Would there be mental defenses normally lulled by the curtain of sleep that he would need to engage? Would Cresselia be able to manipulate him with her mind? After a moment’s further dithering Darkrai berated himself slightly for his hesitance. It wasn’t as though he was unlikely to be able to handle whatever he was about to face, and in any case if he should find himself in serious danger he could always simply leave Cresselia’s mind.

Darkrai chose a point in the air at random and stabbed it with the tip of his talon. With a wide sweep of his hand he drew a vertical line of light across the horizon. He slashed twice more, this time horizontally, so that he had created the outline of a rectangle slightly larger than himself. He waved his hand imperiously at the shape as a wizard might before casting a spell, and a majestically carved oaken door appeared within the space outlined by the rectangle. Grasping the door’s handle, Darkrai threw it open wide and floated purposefully into the darkness on the other side, delving deep into the heart of Cresselia’s conscious mind.