Chapter Five - ”Promises to Keep”
Epoh was Old Digiscript for “
She was a fox Digimon, about six foot five with yellow and white fur. She wore purple wristbands with ying-yangs on them, and little horizontal lightning markings under her eyes. A cute Digimon she was - maybe even beautiful. No ... definetely beautiful.
In any event, Epoh was split into two parts: the Ring, and the Core. From space, Epoh looked a lot like a peach because the Ring was the shore and its where the weirdo Digimon who called this island home lived. The core, howwever, was covered in a shadowy forest making the pit of the peach. the island was perfectly circular completing the likeness.
The fox Digimon looked around, her paws hot due to the scorching sand beneath her toes. She blinked a bit since the sun was shining directly in her eyes.
“Weclome to Paradise Renamon,” she muttered to herself grabbing a brown flash she had hanging from her side and taking a long drink. That’s when she looked down in the sand twitching her ears, raised an eyebrow and closed the flask. She took her time, even whipping her mouth on her wristband. Then, without warning she lept into the air about twenty feet and spread her arms and legs somehow suspending herself in mid-air.
“DIAMOND STORM!” she screamed summoning an innumerable number of razor-sharp diamond fragments which stayed frozen all around her for a split second before raining down on seemingly vacant space.
“OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!” came a small high-pitched voice. “Invisibility, off! Invisibility-OOOOOW!”
And suddenly there was a very small skinny Digimon appeared where the diamond shards had broken the sand.
“Impalmon,” Renamon said simply. Her voice was sexy and feminine, but maintained a certain insurmountable potency to it. “Fairly weak Digimon who live in torrid desert areas theiving with the only worthwhile ability in their caliber - invisibility.”
She landed gracefully back on the ground without making a sound and stepped on Impalmon’s tail as he started squirming away desperately.
“Look ma’am, I’m sorry!” Impalmon screamed desperately. “Just please lemme go!”
“How about this,” Renamon said in a bored tone. “How about I separate your head from the rest of your body? I understand that’s fairly fatal for a fair ammount of Digimon.”
“I’ll do anything!” he cried. “I was just trying to get some stuff from the tourists!”
“Why!?” Renamon demanded raising her voice very slightly, but it was more effective that the roaring of a Monochromon.
“M-my family!” he said, tears now sprouting from his eyes. “They haven’t eaten in days and I-”
“Then you should have let them DIE,” Renamon said in her barely audible but alarming tone of voice. “You should have let them expire rather than try to steal from ME! Now, where is he!?”
“Where’s who?”
“Don’t be coy with me you inadequate waste of Digisperm,” Renamon said narrowing her eyes. “I’ll kill you, and then I’ll kill every Impalmon on this island one by one without hesitation. It’s too hot, and I’ve travelled too far and too long to be detoured by some thieving degenerate who claims perpetual ignorance like yourself. I’ve deleted many Digimon for just looking at me wrong Impalmon- don’t think I won’t kill you.”
Impalmon stopped stammering and his lips got very thin, and his yellow face growing pale. Impalmon may be a devious thief, but he cared about his family more than anything. He sighed. This new Digimon was not to be toyed with- he could see it in her eyes of obsidian and indigo. She had the look of a Digimon who was too tired to deal with nonsense. Her eyes were that of a sad Digimon who had gotten too old too fast.
“Follow me,” Impalmon said forfeiting his false unfamiliarity. “As long as the other Impalmon see you with me, they won’t attack you. We Impalmon are a brotherhood.”
“If they came close to me, they would have suffered a most painful deletion,” she said with the same voice. It wasn’t arrogance or overwhelming confidence. It was a voice that was weary, and unimpressed by things. Impalmon wondered what this Digimon’s story was, and why she was so defunct with the way her expression hadn’t changed since she had arrived on this island. “Your species makes too much noise, I can hear them before they even know they’ve moved.”
Impalmon simply nodded briefly wondering what kind of Digimon, as old and middle-aged as this one seemed, could hear a hushed Impalmon sneaking across sand when Impalmon had inborn stealth.
“This way,” he reiterated somehow thinking that asking questions would need to unnecessary violence. “He lives in the Core. I’ll take you most of the way, but when stuff gets dangerous, I’m hauling tail in the other direction. I have a family to take care of Mrs ... sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“That is because I didn’t give it. Lead on,” Renamon said, and they began to walk. Renamone scented many Impalmon standing around, but just as her guide had predicted, they didn’t attack her. Not that she really was worried about it.
“He lives in the center of Epoh,” Imaplmon said as they continued on past more of the vanishing Digimon thieves. Renamon was sure that there were invisible homes where the citizens of the Epoh Ring lived, and she thought that Impalmon, who could apparently see through invisibility, was at least useful for making sure she didn’t bump into a hut or a small child. “Past Epoh Wood in the Core. The forest is pretty tame despite its menacing look. We Impalmon get most of our resources from within, but Impalmon are greedy, despite being brothers, and finished products aren’t easy to come by. That’s why we steal from the travelers.”
Renamon sighed, apparently not ailed by the Impalmons’ situation. They were quickly approaching the edge of the Ring.
“You say that the Epoh Wood isn’t treacherous,” Reamon obliviously looking up at the stormy clouds, and wondering if it was ever was sunny in this strange place. “But you said that when ‘things got dangerous’ you’d leave me to my own devices? Exactly what lies beyond the Wood?”
She waited for an answer, but it was a while before Impalmon said anything. Renamon, who wasn’t sure if she had lost track of time, or if this was some trick of the island, found herself suddenly immersed in the forest. Turning around she couldn’t see the the shore anymore, but dismissed it thinking she had more pressing matters.’
“Well,” Impalmon said vaguely scratching the back of his neck with his dirty yellow hand. “We don’t usually venture to the Core. We’ve heard that ‘he’ has some pretty nasty booby traps set up around his shrine.”
“How dangerous are these traps?” Renamon asked looking around the Wood. It was very dark and moody. Any other Digimon that either didn’t live here like the Impalmon, or wasn’t as gallant as Renamon, would probably be fairly apprehensive right now. Renamon, however, thought nothing of it. She actually enjoyed the peacefulness.
“Well,” Impalmon said, still dubious in tone. “Let me put it this way: nobody has ever come back from venturing from the shrine.”
“Hmmm,” Renamon said, curiously unconcerned. “They must have been inferior specimens.”
Impalmon shot her a look that didn’t phase her.
“My brother tried to seek out the shrine,” he said through gritted teeth.
Renamon looked at him.
“And...?”
Renamon didn’t pay attention to what Impalmon’s reaction was. Instead, she went over her long journey to this place in her mind. It seemed so long ago that she had embarked on this strange expedition now twenty-one years thereafter. Reminiscing on the past, she found the recollections of the days after she returned hom to the Digital World crisp in her mind as if they had happened yesterday.
It had been exceptionally chilly, and things were still being rebuilt after the evanescing of the D-Reaper program that had nearly leveled both worlds; real and digital. It was several days until they, the heroic Digimon, were found in the Swodniw mountains after long days of resting and regaining their solidity and potency. In any event, they were all found by a pack of Dobermon in three days time, at which point they had been able to regain their base form of rookie.
Renamon was never one for parties and get-togethers, but she came to the festivities that followed. She only attended the first one, mind you, because there was at least one hundred lavish celebrations all around the Digital World, and though Renamon and her fellow fighter Digimon were the guests of honor, the only person she could have envisioned taking the time and effort to visit all of them was Terriermon, who seemed quite happy with his newfound fame. That notoriety and repute wasn’t quite Renamon’s style, and though she didn’t fault Terriermon for wanting to reap whatever was tendered to him (after all, he’d been a good fighter and a key factor in the victory against the D-Reaper), she called it quits after the first gala.
She managed to get away from the screaming fans of the weary battlers, and find a nice secluded spot overlooking the sable ocean with a simple glass of wine in her hands. The moon was high, and seemed to be bright on purpose in celebration of the restoration of order and peace, and the stars followed suit. She even saw a meteorite soar through the night sky, and a curious red star in the far distance (she could see it clearly due to her keen eyesight.) Anyone who had just saved the world, and found themselves in this cynical scene thereafter of serenity and celestial beauty would accept the ravishing horizon and cool breeze that ruffled their fur softly like a appreciative and clement kiss would take a spell - if only an instant - to take in and appreciate this rewarding equanimity after so many hard-fought and precious battles.
Not Renamon, however. No, Renamon stood there in her youth and beauty actually regretting the defeat of the D-Reaper, and the peace that followed. No longer did she have an excuse to humble the importance of the situation that she knew that she had to deal with. She was no longer preoccupied, and with talks of a new cosmopolitan government in the works, she didn’t think she would be again for a long time. She didn’t mind the fighting; it was the quiet that bothered her. See, in the midst of galant engagement, you didn’t have to think about things; it was all impulsive and inborn. The things that didrequire thought, could be “conveniently” lost in all of this, and whenever these affairs began to resurface in one’s mind, they could always count on another quarrel to drive it out of their priorities.
But now, the last battle had been won, and the world seemed rerouted in the direction of peace and understanding. Her kind, the heroes who fought with fists and energy attacks, would not be needed in the imminence that was ahead. All of her friends were being offered gifts, riches, and even political powers, but she wouldn’t let any of these benefactors get close to her. The second she took their handouts, it would mean retirement, and reinforcement of the fact that she had helped seal her own fate; futility and obsoleteness. As such, she could no longer hide from the responsibility that she had assigned herself long ago in a laboratory back on Earth, and it scared her. It scared her profoundly.
She had been standing on the edge of the cliff watching fireworks which had just started to go off in the distance across the water when she expertly and effortlessly sensed the presence of another Digimon behind her. She turned around and saw Guilmon waddling noisily across the barren ground, sitting beside Renamon.
“What do you want,” she said sharply, angry at Guilmon for interrupting her thoughts. “Shove off!”
But Guilmon, who seemed to lethargic and ignorant to understand the concept of a threat, didn’t get up. Either that, or he was the bravest Mon on the face of the planet.
“What you doing?” he said in his childish voice. “Why you not celebrating?”
Renamon glared at him, and knew by reading his eyes that he was sincerely concerned. She felt a little bad for lashing out at him. After all, he had saved her life on numerous occasions. He’d never be a master of Quantum Physics, or philosophy, but the kid could fight- and honorably at that! This had earned him her eternal respect.
“I’m thinking,” she said looking back out into the sea. “Thinking about things.”
Guilmon smiled idiotically bearing his fang-like teeth.
“What you thinking about Renamon,” he asked politely, and Renamon sighed at his total lack of maturity.
“About an old friend,” she surrendered. “Someone that I should have deleted a long time ago, Guilmon.”
At this, Guilmon looked puzzled.
“Why you want to delete friend?” he asked quizzically. “I no want to delete Takatomon ...”
Renamon opened her mouth to point out that humans died rather than suffered deletion and reformation, but Guilmon sighed sadly with a deepness that Renamon thought his small brain incapable of.
“I miss Takatomon already,” he said in a solemn tone, and Renamon felt a stinging pain in her heart. She didn’t necessarily miss Rika, but felt deep down in her mind that she had lost something very dear to her. She felt a void that she knew could never be filled by anything without a blue and white shirt. “You think Takatomon come and visit us soon?”
Renamon looked at Guilmon’s wide hopeful eyes. Usually she had no trouble being blunt and truthful knowing that Henry’s dad, Mr. Wong’s, woeful voice stating a certain irrefutability to the seal on interdimensional apertures, but she didn’t take this into consideration. Maybe it was because she cared about Guilmon’s feelings for some reason, or because she didn’t want to believe her permanent detachment from Rika herself. Whatever the reason, Mr. Wong’s science had popped out of her mind just as soon as it had popped in.
“I’m sure ...” Renamon said searching her mind for some possible truth to what she was planning to say. “I’m sure that we’ll see Rika and her friends someday, somwhere. It just might not be tomorrow or anything, so don’t get to excitable.”
Guilmon, who didn’t seem to process that last sentence, picked up his ears and stood up laughing through his closed mouth with joy.
“Takatomon too?” he asked.
“Yes,” Renamon sighed. “Takato ... mon ... as well. What’s that thing around your neck Guilmon?”
Guilmon looked down as if he was somehow ignorant of what was around his neck, which he probably was. It was a pure gold metal metal discus hanging on a string around Guilmon’s neck. It had a string through the middle, where the hole was. It looked suspiciously like a gold-plated version of something Rika called a “CD,” or compact disc.
“A Tentomon give it to me,” he said puffing his chest out with pride. “He say that if I play it on something called a ‘CD Player,’ which he also gave to me, it would make me smart!”
Renamon snorted silently at this. She couldn’t imagine anything that could accomplish that endeavor. Guilmon, who hadn’t noticed, pressed on.
“What about your friend?” Guilmon said returning to the previous subject. “Why you want to delete him?”
Renamon sighed again and walked around a bit suddenly becoming very interested in her paws.
“A matter of circumstance,” Renamon breathed almost mutely. “And it was a she by the way. I put her in a situation that I shouldn’t have, and rather than put her out of her misery, I asked her to wait here in the Digital World for me. That was several months ago, before we defeat the D-Reaper. I made a promise to them that I’d seek them out - that we would be able to be together forever. Now, my battles are over, and I don’t know if I should keep that vow I made to them.”
Renamon looked at Guilmon who, thankfully, looked to have no intention of inquiring further about this womon.
“They’ve hidden well,” she sighed. “Believe me, I know. Let us say for the sake of argument, I taught them everything I knew before they went off. Not only that, but I’m wondering if I should have just deleted her when I had the chance. Her very existence is not meant to be. She exists a shadow; a phantom. I ... I don’t know if she’ll forgive me for taking away her purpose. She might not want me to come looking for her.”
Guilmon walked over to Renamon and looked her in the eye with a tint of compassion and comprehension.
“You loved her,” he asked. “Didn’t you? You’re worried”
Renamon looked out into the water, unable to answer Guilmon.
“Renamon,” Guilmon pressed on regardless. “You’re one of the prettiest, coolest Digimon I ever met, and any one’d be lucky to have you. You shouldn’t be afraid. If you really love her, go after her. You have promisees to keep, and romance to reap.”
Renamon eyed Guilmon curriously. He’d spoken in perfect grammar more or less.
“Guilmon,” she said looking at his makeshift necklace. “Have you been listening to Tentomon’s CD by any chance?”
Guilmon nodded.
“Just for a few seconds,” he said. “I have to listen to it for a whole day before it starts to really work.”
Renamon almost smiled, but then became preoccupied with the moon.
“So you think I should search for her?” Renamon said, sounding as close to helpless as she’d ever been. “Despite the adversities that may impede me?”
Guilmon nodded again.
“If you two really are in love, it’ll work out in the end,” he said wisely. “Somehow, someday, and somewhere.”
Renamon blinked. The CD must work after all.
“No matter how long it takes?”
“Yes.”
“No matter how hard it becomes?”
“Yes. Go on Renamon. If there’s nothing here for you, then you’ll find happiness elsewhere. I cross my heart and hope to die.”
Renamon took a few moments to maul the ideas running chaotically through her mind into straight logical reason.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll leave tonight ... after all, I can’t afford to be afraid ...”
I can’t afford to be afraid.
Many years after that, she hadn’t be able to track down her lost love by herself, so she had altered her search for the Golden Island where she had heard legends of someone who could, and all she had to do was get past whatever challenge lie ahead to ask him the one question he granted his visitors- or so the legend goes. She had become a harder more stone-faced person over the years, and age had made her indifferent to anything external to her mission. She was determined to keep her promise, and although she had left a bit of herself behind when she began this long difficult journey, she wouldn’t take it back, or give up any of the hardships she’d come across. It was for the greater good.
“Here we are,” Impalmon said stopping at the entrance of a menacing looking cavern. “End of the line for me. Welcome to nomansland.”
Renamon ignored this, just as she ignored all things irrelevant to her progress in her vocation. Over the years she had gotten a few wrinkles on her face, and a tired look in her eyes. She seemed to have gotten too old, too fast, just as Impalmon had thought, and he’d never know the reason why.
She grunted what was most likely a “thank you,” and without hesitation went into the cave. She couldn’t afford to be afraid, just as she had said two decades ago.
After all, she had promises to keep.