And so it ends today.

It is dark; so very dark.  Quite fitting, actually, considering what is soon to become of me.  The only trace of light emanates from a small rectangle near the ceiling, taunting me with its false hopes.  As the cold stone beneath me leeches what heat it can from my withered form, I cannot help but loose a single, quiet chuckle.  I find it quite humorous that only now, in my final hour, do I realize how foolish I have been.

A faint clicking approaches.  As the steel-toed boots round the corner, I look into those ever-so-familiar eyes, seeing nothing but disdain in his red-furred features.  A passing cloud obstructs the light from my solitary window, and now it is revealed that I truly am about to face destiny.

"On your feet.  It's time."  The final confirmation.

"So it would seem...my old friend."  I groan a bit, my legs protesting the abrupt change from my extended time upon the floor.

"You have no right to address me as such anymore," he replies, brow furrowing in hatred.  "You lost that privilege a long time ago."  Pulling a key from his waist, he unlocks the door, beckoning for me to finally leave my confinement.  Normally, he would be accompanied by two guards, but he knows I haven't the strength to attempt an escape.  I have no intentions of escaping, at any rate.  I know that I must atone for my crimes.  Slowly, we walk the long hallways, our destination my judgment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come, come, Richard!  It is time to present yourself to the kingdom."  My mother stared at me impatiently as I quickly hurried to her side, trying my hardest not to stumble over the heavy cape flowing from my shoulders down to the velvet rug.

"Be patient, mother, this clothing isn't exactly suited for running."  Finally, I managed to reach her, panting lightly from the exertion.  Through the drawn curtain, a loud murmur was audible from the plaza below, evidence of the masses that had gathered for this event.  "Besides, I'm only a few minutes late."

At this, she frowned slightly, the action diminishing a few of the wrinkles that covered her visage, yet deepening several others.  Her eyes, bright with life despite her aging body, gazed into mine, painting a mixture of sternness, compassion, and most of all, worry.  "Richard, you mustn't take matters so lightly anymore.  You now carry a great responsibility, no, the greatest responsibility, and treating it as something trivial will spell despair for many, including yourself."

"I apologize, mother.  You know I do not treat it as such.  Though I am young, I know full well the task that has been bestowed upon me, and I am willing to carry it out with the utmost seriousness and respect."

At my reply, her features softened slightly, and she reached a hand up to stroke my face, the aged fingers caressing the blue fur on my cheek.  "You sound just like your father, you know."  She visibly saddened slightly as she continued, her words causing tearful memories to surface.  "He was the same way, always striving to do his best, to do what was right for the people.  He was a strong, yet gentle Luxray...just as you have become."

I leaned in to embrace her, holding her tight as I replied, "I would not be so had I not had such wonderful parents.  It is only because of you that I have become what I am, and for that I am eternally grateful."  We broke apart and I looked at her once more.  Her own fur was marred by a few tears, yet her gentle smile told me she was truly happy.

After a moment of silence, she looked toward the balcony, then at me once more, saying, "Go now.  It is time."

Leaning in one last time, I kissed her brow before turning to face the balcony, proudly striding to meet my subjects, chants of "Long live the king!" filling the warm spring air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The oaken doors abruptly swung open as a familiar face strode into the hall, his pace that of a man set on some important duty.  Like the others in the room, he was fashioned in a light suit of armor, one that would allow the wearer ease of movement while providing substantial defense at the same time. A woven tunic covered his breastplate, the fabric a dark shade of green and emblazoned with the royal crest.  Unlike the two Absol on my sides, however, he bore no weapon, nor did he wear a helm, allowing his long, pointed ears to jut upward.  Stopping several yards from myself, he immediately placed his right fist upon his chest, the customary sign of greeting, and bowed his head before declaring, "Sire, Lord Wallace has been summoned as you requested!  He will be here shortly."

I struggled to control my laughter at his overly formal attitude.  "Very well, then.  Good work, Garnet."

Still holding his stance, he replied, "Thank you, my liege."

At this, I rose from my seat and began pacing towards him, a grin still covering my face.  My Flareon friend had always been overly cautious to respect formalities, even though they were a constant bore in my personal opinion.  "Oh come now, Net, how long have we been friends?  I do not care if I now carry a different title, you will still address me as Richard."

By this point, I was nearly standing over him.  He quickly looked up at me, a slight blush betrayed even by his reddish features.  "As you wish my li...I mean, Richard."

"There now, was that so difficult...Captain?" I asked in jest, placing my hand on his shoulder.

"I suppose not," he smirked, finally at ease.  "At least, not as difficult as attempting to explain the ‘dragon rampage' to your father."

"I had nearly forgotten about that," I replied, fits of chuckling escaping my lips.  "We frightened nearly half the countryside with that tale."

"King Samuel would have beheaded us had you not been his son."

"Oh nonsense.  He always used to regale his own ‘escapades' to me when I was younger.  I remember he once told me of a time when he had covered the seat of that very same throne with cranberry sauce from the previous night's feast.  When his father went to sit down-"

"Pardon me, sire, but Lord Wallace has arrived," came the deep voice from a third Absol guard who had just arrived, accompanied by a man who, were it not for the glowing yellow rings that adorned his forehead and ears, would have been fully concealed in the nighttime darkness.  The Umbreon, a short, slightly rotund figure, was garbed similarly to my companion, the only difference being in the color of his tunic, a dark crimson that denoted him as a commander of the civilian army. 

After dismissing his escort, he approached the two of us, giving the customary greeting before speaking, "Greetings, King Richard; I have come as you requested.  I trust you are in good health?"

"As good as one's health can be, Lord Wallace," I answered, turning to greet him in turn.

"That is good to hear, sire."  He then addressed Garnet, who had once again grown serious once the commander entered.  "Captain Skeller, always a pleasure to see you.  It has been far too long."

"Indeed, Lord Wallace, we really must make time for a casual chatter, perhaps over tea."

"I look forward to it."  Turning back to me, he continued, "Now if I remember correctly, sire, you wished to speak with me."

"Ah, yes.  I received your message concerning the northern tribes, and I wished to discuss the matter further in person."

"Oh yes, I believe I have devised a solution to our little dispute, one that will silence the peasant rebellion once and for all."

"Truly?  I must hear more about this solution of yours."

"Of course, sire.  However, if it does not displease you," at this, he leaned in close so that only I would hear his words, "I would much prefer to discuss such topics in private."

"Are you certain?" I queried with a shred of doubt.  "Captain Skeller is the head of my personal guard; I believe anything said in my presence may be said in his as well."

"I'm afraid I must insist sire.  We must ensure that these plans reach no ears besides ours.  You are aware of the rumors that spies have infiltrated our ranks, are you not?"

"Very well, then."  Reluctantly, I turned to speak to my companion.  "Garnet, I'm terribly sorry, but Lord Wallace wishes to discuss these matters in private.  We can continue our reminiscing afterward, I promise."

"As you wish, my liege," he responded, casting a subtle wink in my direction before turning to leave.  Once more, I turned to the commander as we began strolling further into the hall.

"Now then, about this solution..."

Had I been more perceptive at the time, I would have caught his crooked grin as we spoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm telling you, Net, I was not aware that this would happen.  Lord Wallace insisted that the operation would be successful."

"It was your decision to make, and you decided to send all those people to their death!  You are a traitor to your people, and now you must face the consequences of your actions!"

My longtime friend stood across the royal chamber from me, a look of utter hatred in his sky-tinged eyes and a drawn sword in his right hand.  He intended to arrest me, as per the requirements of his position, and even then I could see that no feelings of kinship were left in his mind.

I did not want to accept it at the time, but it had truly been my fault.  The "Great Massacre," as it had been dubbed, had come about as a result of my decision to send three divisions of the civilian army through a narrow mountain pass connecting the kingdom and the northern territories.  In spite of knowledge I had received weeks earlier stating that the pass was heavily guarded by the rebels, Lord Wallace insisted that their posts had been abandoned, allowing us to move troops through the opening and take the rebellion be surprise.

In truth, the rebels had been in hiding, lying in wait for us to attempt to take the pass.  With the advantage of surprise as well as the high ground, the rebels had brutally slaughtered our forces, the white mountain becoming stained with the blood of my people.

Lord Wallace had been aware of the rebels' plan; he was the one who devised it.  After the attack, he had assumed control of the rebellion and attempted a siege of the castle, destroying many villages in the process.  The remainder of our forces had managed to stave off the attackers, but not without severe losses.  As the one responsible for initiating the failed assault, the blame for the many lives lost fell upon my shoulders.  Yet I did not want to bear it.

"Please, Garnet, you have to believe me!  Lord Wallace used me, used everyone for his own personal gain!"

"No more excuses, Richard!  You are a spineless coward, just as your father was.  Had he simply finished off the rebellion when he had the chance, none of this would have occurred.  But it is far too late now."

I did not resist as the guards alongside him came to restrain me, so stinging were his malice-laced words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tell me, Garnet, who will ascend after today?  I wish to know."  The silence of our walk has been dragging on for far too long, and I felt I had to break it.

Without so much as a glance in my direction, he replies, "Well, seeing as your uncle perished in the battle, I believe his son, Lucian, is the next in line to take the throne."  His stoic expression of displeasure does not vary as he speaks.

"Ah yes, Lucian.  He is a good spirit; I know he will see the kingdom through a long age of prosperity."  The next several paces are taken in silence.  Before my judgment comes, I know I must make amends...somehow.  "I know it is not my place to do so anymore, and you owe absolutely nothing to me, but may I make a request of you?"

He seems to contemplate this for a while before responding, "You may ask; that does not necessarily mean I shall fulfill it."  I smile slightly; I had been expecting an outright refusal.

"Watch over him.  Ensure that he does not succumb to the same tragedy I have placed upon myself."  I stare straight at him as I speak, attempting to convey my wish with every ounce of pleading I can muster.  "Do this for me, and I may rest easy."

At this, he looks at me sideways, as though I were some insane beggar on the streets, wheedling what coin I could from the random passerby.  For what seems like several minutes, he gazes at me, attempting, I assume, to discern my ulterior motives. 

What he does next, however, makes me believe I am losing my mind: slowly, a small smile overtakes his face, accompanied by a slight nod and a word I had not expected to hear for the short remainder of my life.

"I shall...old friend."

Freed from its heavy burden, my spirit rises as I speak my final words to my dearest and only friend.

"Thank you, Net."